Naive Allure
by phlesh
Summary: During the summer before senior year, events take place that will change the lives of the girls forever, while Emily struggles to understand her feelings towards Alison. Mystery. It becomes darker as the story goes on. AU. TW: Drug use.
1. Preface

**Hey, here's just a little tidbit of a story. Been practising writing, thought I'd put it to use. If you're interested, follow, fav, review :) Tumblr: emiilysfields**

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Police cruisers circled the city of Rosewood non-stop. Officers under tremendous amounts of stress stood a rigid watch around the station, the courthouse, hands on their pistols, waiting for some kind of cultish activity to take place. Static calls rang through walkie-talkies, "News on the 5150?"  
A mother with teary eyes, dressed in her best clothing hurries along the sidewalk outside of the courthouse, escorted by lawyers, head down, ignoring the overlapping shouts of several reporters whom followed with cameras and microphones. With them, her daughter, head down, hood-up, hand covering her face, dark hair spilling out from underneath. The sound of heels and loafers hitting concrete.  
A witness sits inside already, nervously picking at her already ripped nails. Her own lawyer whispers something to her that she doesn't quite comprehend. The judge awaits patiently, he thinks about supper, about murder, about innocence- and what it all means, anyway.  
Away from the courthouse, on the other side of the city, up the hill, and into the woods; two girls sit. They don't talk of anything. They look down at the town; sick to their gut, feeling the electricity in the air, but not being able to tell if it came from the overcast sky or from the pandemonium in the world beneath them. "I feel empty." One states, "I feel like I've lost everything."  
The other nods, agreeing but too hurt to respond.  
A third girl, in her home, sits, guilt gnawing in the base of her gut. An open journal sprawled across her bedsheets, a messy apology written in smudged ink; _I'm sorry for all of the things you don't know. If only you knew the length of my selfishness.  
_ A cold dread wraps around her shoulder. It had gone too far. Downstairs, her parents sit in front of the television, her mother puts down her book and raises the volume as a reporter comes live in front of the courthouse. On the _national_ news. "We knew those girls," She whispers to her husband, raising her brows at him- _scary, huh?_ He grunts in response, "You never know who's going to snap."

Today held all of the answers.


	2. Six Months Earlier

**Hope you enjoy!**

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She's Alison Dilaurentis. She's the crown of roses that looked beautiful until you put it on and the thorns drew blood. She's the black cat that crossed my path that I bent down to pick up, but still delivered bad luck. She was asymmetrical hearts drawn on the side margin in notebook paper, the queen of hearts in a game of solitaire. She was bad news with hair that always fell perfectly right, glowing skin, who stood confident in anything from Chanel to her Tweety Bird pyjama shorts. And no matter how often I shower or clean under my fingernails she still climbed under my skin. But she was one of my best friends.

I'm Emily Fields, with bags under my eyes no matter how much sleep I got, who never stood right even in my best clothes. No one special. Just another girl in Rosewood.

God did I fuck up.

"Em?" Hanna prods, waving a hand in front of my face- pulling me back into reality, thankfully. Moping wasn't going to fix my problems.

Running a hand down my face, I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a migraine coming on. "Sorry, Han. I'm a bit spacey right now."

"I can tell," She raises her eyebrows, looking me over, "No offense, but you look terrible."

"Thanks."

"Being honest here, Em," The mattress shifted slightly as she took a seat beside me- Hanna is still looking me over like I'd spent the last three nights under the overpass, "Which brings me to the next thing; this has _bad idea_ written all over it."

 _I've been told,_ I think, the first pound thumping behind my temples. _Ahh, there it is._ But, the fact of the matter is that there was no reasoning the situation, no avoiding: when Ali asks you to meet her for a unusual confrontation discussion, you ought to do it. Partly because it was so out of character for her to ask me to meet her so that we can talk about my _absolute monumental fuck-up_ , and partly because she was just simply willing to work through it.

"Well," I say, throwing my hands into the air, exasperated, "What am I supposed to do?"

"Uh," Hanna grunts, becoming visibly more frustrated, "Tell her to shove it and that she had it coming."

"I don't think-"

"Em," She holds up a hand, taking some kind of yoga-zen-fire breath, "She treats you like a coat hanger."

There's an especially sharp twang in my skull- another thing about the girls, they are constantly trying to tell me that Ali is no good for me, but yet they won't dump her as a BFF either, so what's with the hypocrisy? If anything, Ali never treated me so harsh. Not well, I'll admit- but with Ali, you went through the bad to get to the good. Everyone does. Have good and bad, I mean. Some people just have it more than others.

"We all put up with it," I point out coolly, sometimes it's hard not to be short with Hanna. After all, she was just trying to give me advice about my well being, she wasn't doing anything particularly wrong. Hanna sighs in response, and I take the pause in conversation as an oppurtunity to grab at the water bottle on my night stand- catching a glimpse of myself in the closet mirror. _Yikes_. Hanna's right- I _do_ look terrible. Trying to fix the mess in which I am, I try to muss my hair into something acceptable, but it's no use. Only a shower could cure my blotchy skin and the grease coating my tresses.

"Have you talked to Caleb?" Hanna asks suddenly, drawing me away from the reflection.

 _Caleb? What?_

"Huh?"

She rolls her eyes, "Figures." She mutters, "He isn't always _punctual._ "

"I don't-"

 _"He just said,_ " Anger rises in her voice. Caleb hasn't been a topic in days- they were fighting a lot lately, and this time, it really seemed like the split might be for good. "That he'd give you the bag of my things the next time he stopped at the shop. Which is usually on Wednesday afternoons." Her lip quivered- _oh no, Han, no water works right now, please._

"Maybe he ran into one of the other girls," Distracting quickly, "Maybe he was... I don't know... craving ice cream and went to Murray's, and gave it to Aria instead. Or he could've ran into Spencer at the library."

"Who knows," She mutters hotly. "What time are you meeting Ali?"

I check my- watch? There's no watch on my wrist. I could've sworn I was wearing one, I always do, but there's only the little purple "EMILY" bracelet wrapped loyally around my wrist. Where'd it go?

"Uhm, at seven." I tell her, absently, "What time is it now? Have you seen my watch?"

Hanna's brows furrow together, like I'd just told her I crap little green flying pigs. "It's like, five." She replies, "And no, I haven't seen any watches."

"Huh."

"Please tell me you're going to shower before you see her- which, I still don't think you should do- but it won't look so good if she sees you've obviously... let yourself go, these last few days. Don't let her think she was right."

"Yeah." Dismissively, I uncap the water bottle, taking another swig- _seriously, where is that watch? I wasn't wearing the expensive one, was I?_

Hanna is up, pacing the room. I lay back- thinking about the watch, about later tonight, about my headache, about Caleb and Hanna. God, I don't even want to think about any of it. "You still going to Spencer's on Saturday, right?" She asks me, turning heel to look at me again, now holding my little weiner dog bobblehead that I won in some weird sixth grade swim event.

"Yeah, I am." Spencer was usually with Toby lately, and after Hanna boldly confronted her about the annoying habit (after she broke up with Caleb), Spence had suggested a barn get-together, which was nice. Ali was invited too, which is just another reason I should patch things up with her.

"Oh, good!" She beamed, "You know, I think Spence is going to join baseball, too, being the competitive maniac she is. You still going to?"

"Really?" _There's some good news!_ "Yeah, I am. I bought a bat and everything," I point her in the direction of the sport equipment, which was leaning in the space between my desk and the wall, out of the way. I should put it in the garage, as my mother pointed out when I first got it, but I just felt compelled to have it in here. Not that I was going to be swinging it around in here, or anything. So what's the harm?

"Whoa!" Hanna exclaims, rushing over to inspect it, "Pretty cool," Picking it up, she feels the weight of it in her hands, "Have you been practising?"

I shrug, "Not really."

Her jaw drops open, "Oh my gosh, Em! I could practice with you!"

Good old Hanna- actually, that's a good idea. It'd get her mind off of Caleb _. "Really?_ " I act a bit more thrilled than I am- just not in a chipper mood at the moment, "Wow, that'd be awesome, Han! You could pitch for me."

She probably had about as much past experience pitching as I did swinging the bat, so it was a win-win. "Oh my God, yes!"

"Sounds good," I smile at her- she's glowing with optimism. I still have a headache, "I'll text you tomorrow or something, but, Han; I should probably shower and get ready to face my demons."


	3. Kicked in the Teeth

**Glad to see there are some people enjoying this! I'm quite excited about it, I'm beginning to get all wrapped up in the story to come... :) follow, fav, review if you're interested!**

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A minute winter meant an early, hot summer; and that's exactly what we got. However, it slid between hot and cold quickly once the sun went down; which lead me to my current dilemma- what do I wear? Ali wanted to meet at Grover Park- but how long would the ordeal last? Would we be walking?

 _What are you doing? It's going to be cold either way._

Sighing, I just pull a bomber jacket from it's hanger, a white t-shirt, and jeans. It's not like I'm going anywhere special- even if I was seeing Ali. But, I'd taken Hanna's advice with looking good; blow drying my hair to give it some volume, and I used my expensive mascara... life's all about the details, right? Not really, not with this.

Doing a little dance to get the jeans over my hips, I complete the attire with some socks, and then spend another five minutes examining my reflection. Something's... off.

 _You're just freaking out,_ I tell myself, you're freaking out for no reason- _Ali will listen, she'll give me a piece of her mind, and I'll apologize. She'll forgive. You're freaking out-_

"Em?" A soft knock on my door.

"Come in," Checking my- watch? Right. The door opens a crack, my mother leaning against the frame, a glass of orange juice in one hand.

"Oh," She looks me over, "Why are you dressed up?"

 _Christ, she doesn't remember anything_ \- the thought it alarmingly bitter. "I told you," I say pointedly, "I'm meeting Ali." Moving towards my desk, I pull open the top drawer; various paraphernelia of rings, hand lotions, and two watches- with the third being mysteriously gone and all. At least it's not the expensive one, I think, lifting up the polished thing. Maybe not until I find the other against it, I go for the one I got from Sears instead; it wasn't too showy, polished black casing, but it still looked it's price- which was still, about two hundred bucks.

"So you won't be home for dinner?" Pam presses, pursing her lips together- it's what she does when she's suspicious of something. Drugs, underage drinking- she always assumes that's what was going on.

"I don't know," Fastening it around my wrist- 6:17.

"Well, do you want me to make you some, just in case?"

"Sure," I force a smile, before turning back to my desk and shutting the drawer- only to open another, "That'd be great."

Pam lets out a very loud, very obvious sigh. "I was going to ask you if you wanted chicken salad or if I should make, I don't know, a fettucine or something."

"Whatever you want, mom." I fish around for some lip gloss, "If you want a salad though, don't worry about saving any- it'd probably just be wilty by the time I got home. I can always make something, too."

I slather on a quick layer and put it in my pocket before my mom has time to think up another question. "I should go, though, mom. We're meeting at Grover at seven, so... I don't want to keep her waiting."

"Oh!" She exclaims, "Well, honey, I could come with you and you could get some driving practice in?"

"No, thanks. I just want to walk," Slipping past her, I can't help but notice the slightly panicked look on her face. I don't bother asking what's wrong, because she makes the same face whenever I talk about walking anywhere- even if I'm with others. "Bye, mom!"

Standing under one of the few, sparse streetlamps begins to feel like I'm standing in Hell's fire as the time ticks on. Checking the watch; 7:11. Ali is late. Grover Park is pretty big, she could also be standing around like an idiot somewhere, waiting for me, also too stubborn to send out a text that says " _Hey, I'm here"_. That's less likely however, than her punishing me by making me wait. Everything happens the way she wants it to- everything is always on her own time. She knows exactly what she was doing. Sometimes, I wish I was as cunning as she- but, I guess that's what makes her Alison Dilaurentis. Resigning, I sit down on the bench under the light, pulling my phone out of my pocket- should I just swallow my pride?

It vibrates in my hand- Ali must be out there, too, then-

It's Aria. A tiny stone of disappointment drops in my gut, but I unlock it anyway; _Hey em, hanna just told me ur meeting ali. if all goes south feel free to come over, ok?_

Well, at this rate I may have to take her up on her offer. Or... actually... if Ali doesn't show I kind of want to sulk, and I don't want to bring Aria down with me. How depressing.

 _Thanks,_ I type back, knowing full well I probably wasn't going to follow through with what I was about to say- _I may have to take you up on that offer. Txt you in a while._

Sighing, I slide the phone back into the pocket of my jacket, and tilt my head back against the bench. This is just great, a breeze stirred the leaves in the park behind me, and I shivered. There weren't even a lot of bugs out- there wasn't much hoarding in the street lamp's light. Little sprites. The first few little fireflies, buzzing close to the grass, _what do they do?_

A voice sounded close to my ear, "Hey."

I jump, " _Jesus_!" My hand clutches my chest, but upon realizing that it was only Ali, I let it drop, "You're late. I was starting to think you weren't going to show up."

Ali shrugged, implying maybe I wasn't going to. Whether it was true or not, Ali only did it to keep me wondering. Her and her games. "Well, I'm here, Em."

 _Does she expect me to just start off with the apology?_

"Yeah," I mumble, running my finger along the little purple bracelet- the one she had given me. "Sorry?"

"Wow," Ali sat back, arms crossing over her chest, lip curling into a sneer, "Articulate."

 _Why didn't I go over this? Too damn busy thinking about an outfit? God, Fields, get it together!_ Running a hand down my face, I try again, "Okay, uhm,"

"Even better." Sarcasm dripped like snake's venom out of her mouth.

"If you want to know the truth, Ali," _Rip it off fast, don't be like her and dodge left and right- she's better at it,_ "What I did wasn't right, nothing I said was right, but I was hurt, you were being an ass, and Noel was in the same place, so..." Fast like a bandaid- Ali looks at me, wide, unimpressed eyes, frowning. "I just... I bitched with him."

I cast my eyes downward, not wanting to see her running over my words in her head. _Damn it, Emily!_ I curse myself, _you always get yourself into this shit._

"I see," She says slowly, thoughtfully. I continue tracing the letters on my bracelet. She goes on, "And then he spent the rest of the party getting smash-faced and telling people shit about me. Shit that you told him."

Groaning, I run my fingers through my hair, balling it up in one fist at the roots, still staring at the pavement, "Ali, I'm sorry!"

"Are you?" She snapped, "Look at me."

 _Fuck._ Slowly, I pull myself upwards, leaning back against the bench again and building the courage to look her in the eyes. They're blue and they're on fire. "When did you and Noel even become buddy-buddy anyway?" Her eyes sweep me over in disgust- no, she is not happy with me. Not _at all_.

"We aren't," Shrugging, "We just talked at the party."

"Yeah, clearly. Em, you basically told him I'm some kind of monster," Her voice betrayed hurt now, despite the rage that contorted all of her usually soft features. My heart broke for her- _I didn't mean for people to think you're a monster_ ,

"No," It comes out a whisper, "You're not a monster. I never said that you're a monster."

"I'm disappointed with you." She says coldly, "I thought you were better, Em."

 _No, no, no,_ "No, Ali," _no, no no no_ , "Please. I didn't mean-"

"You didn't mean to, but you did." She cut me off, holding up her hand- telling me to halt in my meaningless apology. Except it wasn't meaningless.

"Ali, please- I'm sorry. I really am."

"Doesn't matter." The blonde looks away, fixes her scarf, "The damage is done. Now I just have to find a way to shut Noel up."

"Ali, how can I help? I don't want this."

She looks me over once again, calculating what was to be done with this mess before her- this callateral damage to the whole picture. I'm getting somewhere, "Really, Ali." I persist, "How can I fix this? How can I make it up to you?"

"Enough, Em," She shakes her head, rising to her feet. No! "Alright," Wait, did I actually get through to her, "You want to fix this?"

I nod frantically, like a kid being asked if they wanted a run in the candy store. Of _course_ I wanted to. Ali cocked her head to the side, smirking, "Alright... Since you're so close with Noel now, why don't you get him to stop blabbing to people- clean up your own mess. Then come talk to me. Got it?"

"Got it." I'm still nodding. I've been nodding the whole time. "What about Spencer's?" I ask.

Ali blinks, "What about it?"

"Well... it'll be weird if we're still..." I make a vague hand movement, to gesure to the feeling in the air between the two of us. There was enough tension for an acrobat to walk over. Ali seemed to understand what I was saying, "Don't come, then."

And then she turned heel and kept going.

 _Shit,_ I drop my head into my hands, _should've seen that coming._


	4. Gathering Debts

**Thank you so much for reviewing and letting me know what you think! Glad to see there are people interested! And as for the questions being asked; if you're confused, that's good, because I want you to be! And the timeline is the summer before senior year, in an AU. I guess I'll add that to the description! And Haleb? Wait for it... Everything will play out in time. Song credits; "I'm Sick of Waiting" by Citizen  
**

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The world is a clock. It can be heard in the street rush outside, the smell of rotting meat from the dumpster of the chinese place across the street, the beating of my own heart in my chest- a clock, winding down. The pendulum swings in motion, in balance, with just enough force to overcome friction and let gravity guide it. The hands tick over the face- like a person, around and around, non-stop, like a heartbeat. _Tick-tick_. Like the ocean waves pulled by a satellite, by the moon. _Tick-tick._ Like the reps on an engine. _Tick-tick._ The ever-present background noise. Faster. Consistent. The arms move, every second, pulling the next, turning a gear, swinging the pendulum in rhythm. Faster. _Tick-tick._ A reminder that the earth is moving forward. Death is not the cruelest element in this world. It's time. Time let's people live with all of their regrets. Time reminds people that they are going to die one day.  
 _Tick-tick._

"What was that?" I ask absently, after a few pregnant pauses. Aria had said something, but I was too busy watching the hands on my watch make their way around the face. We decided to skip school today- we would just attend last block, when we had a math test. Our first stop had been Murray's, where Aria works. There was an uneaten banana-fudge sundae on my side of the table, while Aria still prodded at her strawberry chocolate one.

"I _said_ ," She begins slowly, "Are you okay? You're super out of it."

Pulling my sleeve over my watch, I rest my head on my hands, "Well, I told you how it went."

"I know." She frowned, "But you're... _especially_ out of it. Did you sleep okay?"

"I slept alright." Bringing the sundae in front of me, I take a scoop- the ice cream was a bit melted by now, since I had forgotten about it.

"You have the pizzaz of a funeral organizer right now, Em. I'm getting some majorly depressed vibes."

I pick a banana out of the fudge, the feeling of disappointment weighing heavy in my gut. Not even chocolate could cure my hormones.

"It's just..." I trail off- _how do I explain this? Depressed? No_. I find myself making swirling hand motions as I search for the correct description about how I feel about this mess. "I don't know how I'm going to solve this."  
Aria pursed her lips sympathetically, "Well, first things first; you're going to have to talk to Noel." Groaning she heaved her giant yak-fur bag onto the table, pulling open zippers aimlessly, "Chipper up, Em. It'll work out."  
She was probably right, but the guilt was eating me alive. _Some friend,_ my conscience sniped _, you let her down_. "Do you have his number?" I inquire, finally taking a bite out of the banana, "That could be a start."

"Yeah, I do," The dark haired girl replied, tucking a lock of dark brunette hair behind her ear- which, currently had radish earrings hanging from them."Just gimme a minute," She dug around in her bag, brows knitting together impatiently.

"What are you looking for?"

"I should have a tiny notepad in here," She all but stuck her head into the gaping bag, "I wrote notes down on it. Math notes."  
I hum in response, watching her struggle for a few more moments, before she moaned, and shoved the bag away from her, "Whatever."  
 _Tiny frustrated Aria._  
"Here," I say, cracking a smile for what feels like the first time in days, "Give me it." I hold my hand out.

" _Good luck_ ," Aria arches her eyebrows, handing me the bag.

"Organizing will give me something to think about." I say, unzipping the front pocket. Aria scoffs, "How Spencer of you."  
Snorting, I plunge my hand into the pocket, before pausing. "There's nothing potentially harmful in here, is there? Thumb tacks? A pocket knife?"

"Dig away," Aria waves off the concern, taking another big scoop out of her ice cream. I ball up all of the contents of this pocket, taking out an entire handful and a half of random purse crap. There was a lot of garbage in this pocket, some lip gloss, some pencils, gum...

"God," I mumble in disbelief, after discarding the third empty mint container, "Don't you ever go through this?"  
Aria shrugs, "I mean to, but then I forget."

After that pocket had been organized, I don't bother even pulling out the fistfuls from the main pocket- I just upend it over the table. Books, even more garbage, a phone charger, snacks... there was even a DVD in there. I lift it up, quirking a brow- _who carries a DVD in their bag?_ The girl replies to my wordless question with a look that says _give me a break_ , and then replies, "I lent it to Hanna a few weeks ago."

"Huh." I turn it over, it was _A Clockwork Orange_. "Didn't think Hanna would be into this kind of movie?"

"I don't think she ended up watching it."

"Makes sense." I sort it into the pile that was not garbage, "Dark." I watched that film once, when I was about thirteen years old, and it traumatized me a little. Now that I'm older though, maybe it would be better. "Actually," I say, lifting it again, "Can I borrow this?"

"Go ahead."

I slipped it into my own backpack on the floor, and continued organizing in silence. _Garbage, garbage- ew, used face wipe. Nice, Aria. Really hygienic of you_. I find the note pad, and hand it to her. "Oh!" She exclaims, pleased. I pick up a black nail polish- but find something far more interesting underneath.

" _Aria_!" I furrow my brow, lifting up the vintage looking silver lighter- it was actually pretty cool. "Why do you have a lighter?" Teasing, I twirl the vintage looking thing around in my hand, "And why don't you share your Marlboro's?"

"No Marlboro's here, Em." Aria played back, "And even so, I wouldn't let you have one. I'm no advocator."  
I ran my hand over the words etched in the metal, "Where'd you get this anyway?" There was rust in those little lines, "World War One?"

"Actually," The dark hair girl's mouth twisted into a excitable, interested grin, "Who knows? It's refill-able. I got it at a second hand shop."

"Well," I put it into the safe pile, "It would be one hell of a lighter if it still works after that long."

Hanging around with Aria was nice. She never pressed too much when there was something I didn't want to talk about- but she was always perfectedly on time when it came to facing issues.  
Once the bag was organized, we went up and got the check from the girl at the counter named Jessie- she and Aria were pretty good friends since she started working here, although Aria said she wasn't the brightest. Apparently, she'd seen the girl's shopping list which consisted of _"Lettus_ " and " _Backon"._ She was nice enough, though, so who cares?

"Oh, Aria," I remind her, holding open the door for her as we leave, "Noel's number?"

"Oh!" The shorter girl fumbles around in her newly organized bag for a quick moment, removing her phone, "Right."  
And the ever present feeling of doom resettled.

I'm sitting at home, on my bed, a copy of J.K. Rowling's A Casual Vacancy laying open, but unread over my lap. Fitz assigned it a good two weeks ago, and I've gotten through a measly three chapters. I knew it was be a flop in the class, given the size of the book- which was enough to turn off the slower members of third period English, which was, in turn, most of the class. But as I pushed myself to read it, I couldn't find myself immersed in it in the way I wish I could be. It just was not my kind of book. But it was in this moment- the only moment that will ever be exactly like this- my phone vibrated against my mattress.  
 _Good, something to distract me._

Noel Kahn's number indicated that he had replied to the hasty text I'd sent as soon as Aria and I got back to school.  
 _  
Hey Fields ;)_

I can't help but roll my eyes in disgust. Leave it to Noel to take; ' _Hey Noel, its Emily, can we talk?'_ and assume that it meant I was after him. _Guys and their egos._ One of the many things Ali is right about, is that men will put their egos above anything else, and sometimes their ego gets so big, that there's no room left in their skull for a brain. A prime example is Noel Kahn.  
 _  
About that talk?_

I don't return the flirty emoticon. A reply is almost instant,  
 _  
What about it?_

With great restraint I don't groan aloud. _Can we have it?_  
 _  
Sure, what's it about?_  
 _  
I'd rather talk to you in person_

I watch the bubbles appear on his side of the conversation as he typed, and then they disappear. _Noel I swear to  
God if you don't-_  
 _  
Oh? yeah sure ;)_

Exhaustion courses through my body suddenly, as if his stupidity, his ignorance, sucks the soul right out of my body through the LED screen. My thumbs move with all of the enthusiasm of slugs across the keyboard; _Where? And can it be soon?_

The phone slips through my fingers, it falls, tumbles over the floor. Tumbles. Drops. I drop. Muscles detach from bones, tendons wither away, my eyes melt out of my skull, I turn to dust and I no longer exist within the span of four seconds before the phone vibrates again, awaking me.  
Leaning down, I lift it from the floor, seeing that it was not Noel whom texted me. It was Spencer; _Still coming to the barn Saturday night? Thinking of having a fire, if I can shmooze my parents a bit. Could you bring one of the Jerry Cans from your garage that night? I have the s'more supplies_  
I type back the affirmative reply, and check my reflection in the mirror. It really looks like I could use a nap _. I need some tips from Hanna about how to wake up my skin, and- oh!_

Spencer has'nt replied, but I open up the conversation between she and I and ask _; Have you seen any watches around btw?_

It buzzes in my hand, Noel's name popping up in the unread folder. I open;  
 _  
Blue Jay Cafe, eight thirty tonight_

My watch says it's quarter after seven _. Might as well get some food and coffee before you meet him, so he knows it's not a date and so you don't pass out while you're still here._  
Grabbing my jacket from the hanger, I tromp down the stairs and manage to leave before my mother can interrogate me.

"Thank you," Politely, I smile at the man who holds the door open for me at Blue Jay. This cafe is downtown, in the old part of Hollis, with the cobbled buildings that have been around since, probably, the 1850's. Honestly, it was a bit of an unusual place for us to meet, when the Brew was so much closer, which is what gives me the uncomfortable feeling that Noel will try to be all amorous as opposed to talk. And that was the last thing I needed.  
Inside, it was dimly lit by lanters hanging from the ceiling and wall, and full of hipsters in tie-dye shirts. It smelt like pine smoke and cinnamon, and on the far side of the room there was a tiny stage, currently empty. Pulling a twenty from my pocket, I wait behind a college guy with a man-bun and thick stubble for the bistro bar.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" The girl asks me after the other guy has ordered his bacon tomato sandwich.

"Can I just get a medium chai tea?" _Maybe it will calm my nerves. That's what chai does, right?_

"Is that everything for you?"

"Yup."

"3.45 is your total."

I hand her the twenty. She gives me my change, I pocket it, and I wait at the far side of the bistro. Behind me, someone has come up onto the stage and started talking. Someone laughs, and then I can hear her apologize, probably to whoever was on the stage, who was probably not even listening. The second employee behind the counter hands me the chai, warns me that it's hot, and I find an empty booth in the back just as the guitar chords begin to chime through the cafe.

In the booth, I slump forward, smelling the tea, listening to the sounds and the words as they came.  
 _  
"I don't give enough to take back what I own,"_

I know I've heard this guy before _\- I wonder if he's the cute one that performed at the school back in October for the Halloween dance? Or the guy from last summer at the community concert?_  
 _  
"My stories are told out of broken homes,"_  
 _  
Is that him?_  
 _  
"I could be a bit better if I killed off this ghost,"_

Looking over at the stage, it's hard to see from way back here- I look for that cute guy's strawberry blonde hair. Ali and Aria swooned over him the whole time.  
 _  
"I'm alone."_

The guitar slows, I see him take a few steps and it's-  
Noel.  
My jaw drops, I can't be seeing this. There's no way Noel's a _closet musician_. Quickly, I rip my phone from my pocket and check the time; 8:08.  
 _  
"I bleed from the inside,_  
 _And I won't tell anyone,"_

He's even singing some kind of... emotional, dark stuff? I'd expect some kind of pop, or maybe country...

" _I'm nowhere to find,_  
 _But I couldn't care at all,"_

He belts out the last note, and someone whistles. He picks up the guitar. Rubbing my eyes, I make sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing, and... yeah, he's still there. _Holy._  
 _  
"Live like a ghost, to keep my from talkin', till you notice where I'm at,"_

Reaching for my tea, I blow on it before taking a sip- I don't really feel like I need it anymore. This surprise was enough of a wake-up.

" _Cause I couldn't care at all,"_

His eyes sweep the crowd as he strums another few notes on the guitar- and he's looking at me. His eyes widen, like a deer in the headlights. His mouth drops open in confusion, and then he closes it, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. _Don't screw up! Don't freak out! Oh no!_ Placing my hands on top of my head, I ball my hair up into my fists. _If he screws up because of me..._  
 _  
"Nowhere to hide,"_

His voice wavers, and he looks away sharply, at the floor.  
 _  
"Nowhere to run to, when nobody listens,_  
 _I'm just a liar who's tired of trying,"_

This is too weird. My life just keeps getting weirder.  
 _  
"I'll pick myself to pieces,_  
 _Cause I couldn't care at all."_  
 _  
He really is talented, though._  
 _  
"I'm sick,_  
 _I'm sick of waiting..."_

His voice softens, and the strums slow. The song has ended, "Thank you." He says into the microphone, and the cafe starts clapping- I put down my tea and join in. It's a few moments before Noel makes his way through the crowd, guitar slung over his back and awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He's blushing.

"You're early, Fields." He tries to joke, but the embarrassment of being caught shines through in his demeanour.

"Yeah..." I lift my tea, "I wanted to get something to drink, and had nothing else to do."

An apprehensive laugh escapes his lips, "Well... yeah, I told you to meet me here because I had a reservation to come play tonight, so I'd be here..."

"You were good!" I say quickly, maybe a bit too quickly- but the poor guy looks like he wants to dig himself a grave and hide in it for the next thirty years, "You shouldn't be embarrassed or anything!"

"Thanks." He doesn't appear any more at ease. _I tried_. "It's just something I do sometimes. I don't want to, like, be a rockstar or anything."  
 _  
What do I say to that?_ "Oh," I force out a laugh, "Well, you are good. So..."

"About that talk?" He cuts me off, clearing his throat. I can tell he's putting his _'Noel Face'_ on as he plasters a flirty smile onto his lips, "What was so urgent, Fields?"

"Actually," I say seriously, sighing into my tea. Truthfully, I have no idea how this is going to turn out, "It's about the party last Saturday."

He raises a bushy dark brow in interest, " _Go on_." He purrs. _Clearly he thought our bitching was more like pre-sex bonding. Ew._

"I, uh," Now it's me anxiously tracing the letters on my bracelet, "I said some pretty nasty things about Ali," His expression drops, but I go on, "some pretty... _personal_ things- that I really shouldn't have said."

"Emily," He groans, "She's a bitch. To me _and_ you. She plays with people- you shouldn't feel bad."

"Well, she's my friend," My blood temperature rises, "So what I did was wrong."  
He scoffs in disgust, "I don't get why you girls let her kick you around like a bunch of dirty soccer balls. You shouldn't even _be_ her friend."

"You don't understand, Noel." _Would he just shut up long enough to let me get to the point?_ Inhaling deeply through my nose, I continue, "But, I just wanted to ask you if you could... like... _stop_ telling people the things I said about her?"  
He leans back, jaw clenching, palms flat out on the table, but a finger twitches. "Emily,"

"I'm serious, Noel. I said those things when I was drunk and upset."

"You shouldn't stick around people who make you upset," He voices softly, leaning his head against the cushion of the booth, "It's not right."  
 _  
What can I sat to get him to stop? Why can't this be simple?_ "She doesn't make me upset." I insist, shaking my head,  
"Not anymore than anyone else does."

" _Bull_." He replies, causing me to shake my head again.

"Even if she did, Noel," I say, gently pushing the cup between one hand to the next, "It's really not in your place to decide anything about the choices I make."  
His chest deflates as he lets out a long, humbled breath. _Bingo_.

"So, Noel," I say softly- _play it up, play it up!-_ reaching out and gently touching his hand with my own, "Will you please stop? I know you probably just meant to tell your buddies, but stuff spreads. And I feel awful."

A cautious look crosses his face as he looks at me. Maybe he knows that I'm really trying to convince him- I pull my hand away, and take another long sip of tea. Noel sighs, lowering his head, "Emily, it just doesn't sit right with me."  
 _  
Oh, for the love of God!_ "What?" _We were making such good progress!_

He waves his hands in the air, groping for the right kind of explanation. "She doesn't..." He's coming across very pained- _let today be the day Noel Kahn became more than stupid jock, he was also emotional, moral, musician. Got to give him credit for something. No matter how much his nobility was currently annoying me,_ "She just treats you guys so horribly!"

"She doesn't, Noel!" _How could this be explained?_ "You don't know the whole story!"

He looks away, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "I guess I don't." Looking back at me, the shadows play across his face dangerously. He suddenly appeared so much more menacing, that I momentarily dig my nails into my palm, wanting to just get up and leave.  
 _  
I can't do that._

"Will you try to explain that this has all just been a mistake?" I plead, spinning the bracelet by the thread now. Noel shrugs dismissively, "Yeah, whatever."

Relief explodes within my chest, popping to my feet I run around the booth and envelope him into a hug, "Thank you, Noel," I whisper, and then briskly break away, "You are such a good guy, you know."  
Albeit still looking a bit pissed, his cockiness seems to have returned after my hug. He grins, "Yeah, well, you owe me."  
 _And you know what?_ "I'm okay with that."


	5. It Happened One Night

**Quick update! I had the day off today, so lots of time to work on this! Enjoy :)  
**

* * *

 _Vodka mustn't be my drink._

I'd spent the last twenty minutes with a stomach ache on the couch in James Foreman's garage. And if that wasn't enough, there was an unshakeable feeling of dreariness clinging to my limbs. Liquor, mixed with watching Ali flirt with Kahn all night had been bearable if not only because I'd seen it coming- but liquor, mixed with watching Ali cuddle up to some college stranger for the last hour had been a little bit more hurtful. So, instead of sucking all the light from the room where the party was happening, I'd decided to move to somewhere private.  
The door into the coat room opened, and sloppily, I look up, grimacing. This was when Noel Kahn made his entrance.

"Oh?" He clearly has had a few beers himself- he squints, as though to make out who I was. "Fields," He says finally, loping over. Heavily, he collapses onto the couch beside me, and slowly turns his head, "You don't look so good." He remarks, frowning.  
I know I don't. "Yeah... you don't either, though."  
A weak laugh escapes him, and I try to chuckle along. Sideways smiling, he chokes out a few lost syllables; "I..." Laughs, "I don't..." He shakes his head in amusement, "uhhhh..."

Downstairs, the crowd erupts at something exciting. _Wish I could be enjoying that... Why isn't Noel?_

"What are you doing up here?" I ask him, my stomach taking a sharp turn. Groaning, I clutch my stomach sharply. Nausea threatens to upheave everything I've eaten that day. Noel doesn't seem to notice.

"Kind of..." He explained, " _Annoyed_ down there."

"But you're a co-host?" He should be enjoying his own party! "What's annoying?"  
His eyes are glossy, he seems to be thinking. He takes a deep breath, leaning over the side of the couch to get to some cooler left there by someone. "Uhhhh." He starts, struggling with the latch.

"Here," I offer, scooting closer and assisting. The movement momentarily makes my head spin, I pause, echoing his action by taking a deep breath, before getting to work at  
the latch. _Who would bring a cooler with a latch?_ But I get it open without too much trouble.  
Noel smiles at me, pleased. "Thanks." He reaches in, grabbing a beer and opening it.

"It's alright," I reply, moving back to my side of the couch. The dark haired boy takes a long chug, burps, and then leans back into the couch.

A long silence ensues, I can tell he's glancing at me sometimes, like he's thinking of saying something. I'm not particularly concerned with him making a move on me, he looks at me more thoughtfully than predatorily, so I relax, and then think; _fuck it, right?_ And grab myself another drink from that same cooler. There's one fruity beverage left in there- which I'm thankful for, because I _hate_ beer.

"You know, Fields?" He slurrs finally, "I have been _totally_ digging Ali since, about, seventh grade."

My heart twangs painfully- but I'm not jealous, despite the fact that he will always have better leverage at her over me. But I understand how he feels. And it occurs to me now that he was up here for the same reason I was. How could I be mad? How absolutely _selfish_ would that be?  
I nod, "I get it."  
He blinks at me, "You do, don't you?"  
 _  
Maybe I shouldn't have said it. Too late now, though. No use backing up over my tracks_. "Yeah," My voice quivers slightly, and I take a pointed breath, trying to calm the sadness washing around in my gut.  
"It's shitty," He grumbles, taking another sip. Shaking his head, he swings around an uncoordinated arm and points at the door, "How can she? How can she just... just _play_ around with people? And not even think about it?"  
 _Thank God someone else knows. He knows. He understands- he gets it._ The misery is replaced with a burning anger, "I don't know. You should see how she treats us."  
His eyes widen, he nods emphatically, " _Oh_ , I do. I don't usually think much of it- but that's so wrong. She practically runs your lives."  
 _  
That could be true_ \- Alison was the cynosure of my life, most of the time. And although it often brought me great suffering, I never really minded. Because the good parts were so good. Ali was _so good_ , honestly, down to her core. That's what made it worth it, but I was so _tired_.

"It's..." I swirl the can around, " _Complicated_."

He rests his head on a hand, propped up on the arm of the couch, "Tell me about it."  
 _  
I could never say it all,_ I think, but prepare myself to try my best to explain it, and take a generous guzzle from the alcoholic drink- the strong, rotting taste of the liquor was present even under the fruity sugars added _. Hangover, here I come_...  
Wiping my mouth on my sleeve, I begin, "Well, she isn't great. But I've known her for so long... I know so much about her, it's... we're so close."  
He hums, raising the beer to his lips. It feels good to talk about it, "But she can just be so... _evil_. You'll tell her something, and she'll... she'll use it against you."  
When we were in eighth grade, I'd confessed that I had never kissed anyone, after Ali had bugged me about it. _Not even your mom?_  
 _Well, no? That's a bit weird._  
 _  
Really?_  
 _  
Really._

I'd felt so embarrassed- I was the last of the girls. Later on, in the tent in Aria's backyard, Ali had rolled over and whispered.  
 _  
Hey, Em?_  
 _  
Yeah?_  
 _  
You can kiss me, if you want._  
 _  
W-what?_  
 _  
Come on, Em. You can kiss me. It's better to have your first kiss with someone who cares about you- even if that means it's your friend._  
 _  
Are you for real?_

She'd giggled, and brought her hand up, cupping my jaw.  
 _  
Em, you can't be afraid forever._

 _But-_  
 _  
Come on, Em. It's now or never- Aria's making popcorn, she doesn't have to know. Just a kiss._

I fell into her hand, contemplating. She was staring at me intently, genuinely, smiling with so much love. She just wanted me not to make any mistakes- she always talked about how much she regretted her first kiss, how it was with that pig Gregg Smathers. She sighs, _Em, it's not going to change your world, or anything._  
 _  
Well, how do I start?_  
 _  
Like this,_

She pulled my head closer to hers, so close that I could feel her breath on my own lips. Butterflies flew into my chest, collapsed and died, and the cycle continued nonstop for a good six seconds, but it felt like a lifetime of decisions were being made. _To kiss or not to kiss?_  
I kissed, of course. And she kissed back. And it wasn't a close mouthed kiss, she wasn't afraid to embrace our intimate actions, she lead, and I followed along as our mouths moved for- I counted- _eleven seconds!_ And then she pulled away smirking,  
 _  
That wasn't so bad, huh?_

And I shook my head, blushing. It did turn out to be pretty bad, because that was the moment I realized that Alison Dilaurentis meant more to me than anyone else- including all of my other friends. And that was also the moment she had weight over me, and like all little seasoned power queens, she took advantage of my disadvantage. Coyly commenting about it just crypticly enough for me to understand, whenever she wanted something from me.  
What happened to the past being the past?

"And she does that to all of you?" Noel blinks, appearing either lost, or appalled- but over all, just really, really drunk.

"Oh, yeah." I affirm, tipping my can back again, heart twisting. "She doesn't care how you feel. Not ever. At the end of the day- all she cares about is herself. Being the most  
important person in the whole damn world."

" _Bitch_ ," Noel finishes his beer, and fumbles for another. I help him again, and he smiles drunkly, "You know, Fields," He points at me, "You deserve a lot better."

"Thanks."

But I don't.

* * *

Saturday night, and I _haven't heard from Ali._ Mom is out at night yoga- her new favorite passtime, and I'm in my kitchen, stirring banana bread batter. I hadn't taken any chances about going to Spencer's barn party, considering I _haven't heard from Ali,_ and it would just be polite of me not to attend and cause tensions to rise. I like to think I'm being the bigger person, here. However, I'd delivered her one of the Jerry Cans, as promised- and lied, telling her that I just wasn't feeling sick. No use throwing Ali under the bus, otherwise the two of them would be fighting, too- and that's always stressful. She hadn't seen my watch, either, which was rather unfortunate.  
What if Noel hadn't kept his side of the deal up? What if he hasn't even tried to fix this?  
I'm tempted to text him- I glance at the phone on the counter, which had been silent for the past three hours.  
 _  
Don't even bother, you're just anxious. Ali will come around._

I pour the batter into the loaf pan and stick it in the oven- setting an alarm on my phone. I end up outside, dressed in warm clothing, practicing my bat swings. I may not have a pitcher to throw the ball, but I try to find a comfortable way to stand, hold the bat, keep it level whil I swing. However, I can only do that solo for so long before boredom claws at my mind, and I end up laying in the grass, staring up at the stars. The night is crisp and clear- the world eerily silent. A dog barks somewhere. If I really think about it, I can see the circular atmosphere in the sky above, the waning crescent moon tilting around the planet. _What would it be like to fall off and into space?_

Goosbumps rise on my arms- there's an haunting feeling coming from the trees at the back of the property. Rising, I pick my bat up from the grass and scan the darkness- vigilant for any signs of movement in the shadows. I can feel eyes watching from somewhere- my back actually hurts. I turn on heel again- spotting a figure move within the house.  
 _  
No way._

Carefully, I stalk up the back steps, palms sweaty around the bat, and pull open the front door.  
My heart skips a beat- no one jumps out back at me. Slowly, I go inside; the house is just how I left it- kitchen empty, lights on, bread in the oven. Living room lights are still on- I check behind the bathroom door, and it's vacant.  
 _  
Just leave, Emily- leave while you can._

But a creaking from upstairs alerts me to where the intruder is.  
 _  
Great! You can get out without being caught!_

But I follow my worst instincts. Holding my breath, I head up the staircase, avoiding the spots I knew groaned under weight. My heart pounds in my ears, I readjust my grip on the bat.  
At the top of the stairs, I peek down either side of the hall-empty. I take a left first, and gently push open my parents' room- weapon at the ready for when the bastard jumps out at me.  
Empty. Next, the second bathroom, the door was now closed. I don't remember having it closed.  
Inhaling deeply through my nose, I twist the knob, thrusting it open, I peer inside; nothing.

Was I imagining things?

My pulse is still absolutely hammering within my chest, I even turn on the light, just to be sure. I pull back the shower curtain- but there's nothing in there, either, except shampoo. _Don't tell me I'm losing it, now-_  
A shrill, piercing scream causes me to jump so violently that I nearly drop my bat, and the bath rug slides out from under my foot, and I'm losing my balance before I realize what's going on. Flailing my arms out, I grab ahold of the sink with my free hand, catching myself.  
 _  
The alarm!_

Frantically, I plunge my shaking hand into the pocket of my jeans, swiping it off.

A rough hand grabs onto my shoulder and pulls me backwards.


	6. Symptoms

**Alright, so happy I have some people following! I'd love to hear any ideas you'd like to happen, critiques, anything! Hope you enjoy  
**

* * *

Staggering, my heart stops.  
The hand on my shoulder curls into my skin, I spin, shrugging it off. _Jesus Christ, oh holy shit!_  
Whirring, I bring the bat over my head- knocking a picture off of the wall in the process- _just do it!_ Squeezing my eyes shut, inhaling deeply through my nose, I swing-

"Em!"

My arms make a complete stop- like my joints had just rusted in place.

 _That's-?_

Peeking an eye open, I see Ali before me- brow furrowed and arms up in defense.

"Ali?" I breath, lowering the bat. "What're you-?"

"You lunatic," She taunted playfully, "Scared you, huh?"

"Well, yeah!" Stammering, I lean the bat against the staircase railing- my head is spinning from the comedown of  
adrenaline, "What are you doing creeping around my house?"  
She's wearing a cute dark pink top, with a heavy hooded grey jacket thrown on top, and what looks like pyjama bottoms. _She must've come from Spencer's barn..._

She chuckles, "I wasn't creeping. Just looking for you.  
 _  
But, what? Why didn't she text me or something? Oh, what do you mean- it's Ali. Of course she'll make an entrance, she lives for that mysterious shit._

The blonde nodded at me, "By the way- your bread is gonna burn, Em."

"Shit!"

Taking off down the staircase, I rush into the kitchen, throw on the oven mitts, and pull the bread from the oven. It looks a little toasted. Frowning, I set it down, just as Ali saunters into the kitchen- twirling the bat in her hand.

"Burnt?" She asks, and I shrug, lifting the lid from one of my mother's chicken jars and pulling out a toothpick. I  
shove it into the bread to examine the state- the crust was pretty... well, _crispy._

"Maybe a little," Sighing, I flick the toothpick onto the counter, and examine her fiddling with the sports equipment.

"So what're you...doing _... here?"_ The words fell lamely from my mouth, Ali grinned, amused with my seeming ineptitude.

"Honestly, Em," She admitted, "Maybe I was hard on you."  
 _  
Hard on me? Did she just say that she was... hard on me? Did she just confess to being maybe wrong about something?_

This revelation causes me to seek out a chair at the kitchen table, she follows, manicured hand holding onto the corner of the table as she leans into it- something about her expression is so mischevious. She is a God in her own world, she pushes the buttons, she strategically places her pieces on the chess board of life. _Checkmate._ I love it. There were too many ways to explain her brilliance.

"You think you were?" The question comes out a bit challenging, but I want her to just say it. _Yes, Em, I was hard on  
you, despite the fact that it was my own fault, really_. I y _earn_ for it.  
 _"_ Maybe," Ali acknowledged, twisting her lips softheartedly. Extending her hand, her fingers play around a scratch in the wood. She is suddenly completely at ease, which makes me wind up in anxiety or excitement- I can't tell. I tap my foot to release the energy as she sighs heavily, and finally goes on, "But, I know you really didn't mean it, Em."

Breath hitches in my throat for a split second. _She forgives me!_

"You didn't mean for, you know, any of that to happen, yeah?"

"Yeah," I confirm, entranced by the way a lock of hair fell slightly out of place in front of her face. Alison beams- abruptly propelling her hand at my own, entwining our fingers together. _And I forgive you._  
She gives an encouraging squeeze, before pulling away, leaving my hand an empty void, " _Excellent._ We can move on."  
Clasping my hands together, I force a smile. "Good. I'm glad." _Move on, pull yourself together_. Flustered, I blink frantically, trying to clear my head. "What're you," I change the topic, "doing here, though? I mean- why'd you leave Spencer's?"  
Her expression hardens, "She was being kind of a bitch."

I raise my brows questioningly, "Oh? How?"

"Because of us."  
 _  
Us._

"Cause we're fighting?" _Us, wow. That just means because we're having an argument._

She breaks into a smile again, "Well, we aren't fighting anymore, silly!"  
 _  
But there's a lot more we need to talk about,_ my conscience chirps intently.  
 _We don't need to talk about it now- smooth sailing._ Fight back that little voice of reason.

Laughing, I shrug, "Well, I'm sure she was just trying to make things right. Tension in the group is always weird."

"You're _so_ right," Her eyes sparkle coyly, "You always see the bright side. I'm so impatient."

"No," It's only a light argument- I don't want her to feel bad, but I know it true, too. "Everyone can be impatient sometimes."

Ali rolls her eyes, still gleaming, and scoffs, "Enough with this mushy stuff," Lifting the bat, she begins twiddling with it some more, "Shall I return this to your garage?"

"Actually," I say, rising to my feet, "I keep it in my room."

Quirking a perfectly-plucked brow, Ali offers it to me, and I take it. "Why?" She teases, "Keeping them robbers at bay?"

"You never know," I smirk, tapping her lightly on the thigh with it, "People break into houses more often than you think."

"Killer," She snorts, batting her lashes at me. This was the Ali I knew and loved.

Whisking past her, I toss the bat hand from hand as I head back to my bedroom, and she saunters behind. "You should come to Spencer's now," Ali suggests, "I'm sure everyone will be a lot more happy now that we've buried the hatchet."  
Despite the way my heart warms at the thought of sitting around a campfire with the girls, it's no use even trying to get my hopes up with attending. Mom isn't big on last minute get together's- it makes her paranoia-o-metre shoot through the roof, where it then proceeds to explode once it exits the atmosphere. Even _after_ night yoga.  
"Errr," I groan while I turn the knob on my bedroom door, "You know how my mom gets. That probably won't work out."

"Boo," Frowning, Ali examines me as I place the bat in it's usual spot. I rest against the wall, watching her look at me and waiting for her to say something else. She doesn't, just hums a single note under her breath.

"You're going back though, right?" I inquire after a beat.

Ali exhales heavily, "Yeah, I guess."

"Why so glum?"

"Not at all," She answered, "Just thinking. Gotta go, Em." She throws a final, winning smile at me, and adjusts her jacket on her shoulders.  
"See you later,"

* * *

The following afternoon, Sunday, I spent at the Brew working. To my surprise, Hanna had showed up at about two o'clock, ordering a coffee and a lemon muffin, but she stuck around a lot longer than necessary to eat it. Not that I minded, it was nice to have a bit of company besides my coworkers. Hanna was in a bit of a sour mood, however, after she had finished ranting about Caleb (in between my brief table passings as I collected astray coffee mugs around the shop, and wiped tables.), she had filled me in on the nights events on my break.

"Yeah, Spence and Ali were a bit tense, at first." She nodded, and then asked if she could have a free refill. I told her when I'm off my break. She frowned, but went on, "So Spence told her to come make it right with you, which I assume she did? Yeah, then she came back, and it was alright after a while. We didn't do much. Aria wanted to have a _Scream_ movie marathon, but no one else was really into it. The mood was weird in there- like, kind of a _strange_ energy."

"What does that mean?" I ask, while checking my watch- I still had another ten minutes on break.

"Just," She bites her lip thoughtfully- "I don't know? It was just kind of weird, like we weren't used to hanging out together."

By the way Hanna's hands are jittering, I can tell she's was caffinated prior to arriving here. _Maybe I should refuse the refill._

"It has been a while," I point out, "We just need to fall into sync again, that's all."

A sort of sadness comes over the blonde's features, and she sighs, "I don't know. It was different this time. I think the group is breaking apart, Em- honestly!" _Breaking apart?_ "We're all just so different now." She concludes, lifting the mug to her lips, before remembering it's empty and putting it down again.

"We're all the same?" _How could she think everyone was different? She was the same bubbly Hanna, but could deliver a  
bite if someone provoked her. Aria was the same cooky Aria. Spencer was the same perfectionist she'd always been. Ali was the same... well, _Ali. _And I was just the same_ me.

"Not everyone meshes well together anymore." Hanna shakes her head, running her fingers over her lime-green gel  
nails. "I mean, everyone always said that high school cliques never last- remember when we all had to see a counsellor back in ninth grade? Mine told me that she could see a lot of change coming to my group of friends, but I didn't believe her. But what if she was right? People grow apart, Em. That's a fact of life. What if this is... well, _it?"_

 _Could it really be the end of our days?_ I personally believe I still get along with everyone, but she could have a point. I had always been Switzerland with everyone- the middle ground, I never clashed with anyone in the group, unlike Spencer and Ali, or Hanna and Spencer, or Ali and Hanna...  
There could be logic in her statement, despite the sad reality, which I really didn't want to accept.

"I hope not," I murmur, downtrodden. _This break just got a whole lot more depressing_ , "I'll get you that refill, Han."  
Just for something to do to rise from that table and stop thinking about it. _Avoidance with Emily Fields_ , my mind croons, and my chest collapsing unhappily. Grabbing the coffee thermos from the front counter, I snatch up a handful of creams and sugars because I know Hanna drinks more of this than the coffee itself. _How could we be coming apart at the seams when we know everything about each other?_  
 _"_ Thanks," She says as I pour the liquid into her mug, to which I reply, "It's on me."  
Just then, the front door swings open, and above her blonde head I see the one and only Caleb Rivers.  
 _  
Shit._

"What?" Hanna blinks at me, brows furrowing, she follows my line of sight. _Did I say that out loud?_

"N-n-n-no!" I say quickly, gently placing my fingers under her chin, moving her head back in my direction. _Damn, probably just made it more obvious_. Trying to laugh nonchalantly, I tell her, "It's just my boss. Quick, look like I'm actually serving you."  
Once again, Hanna gives me one of those infamous looks like I just sprouted a second head. "You _were_ actually serving me,"

"Keep me busy!" I hiss then, eyes darting up in search for the guy. I spot him approaching the front counter, with-  
yup, the bag of Hanna's stuff.  
Clearly, she is not buying my horribly sold story about my boss, and she follows my gaze before I catch her- and the moment she lays eyes on him I can basically see her blood pressure spike.

" _Oh. My. God_!" She growls, fuming.

"Sorry, Han." _As long as she doesn't pounce at him._

He had been talking to my coworker Christian at the counter, who then points over at me, and Caleb notices not only me but his ex-girlfriend at the table, and the uncomfortable in the room becomes like a heat lamp. They share a prolonged eye contact, to which I prod Hanna, "Look away, Han. Look away,"  
Caleb shrugs then, and hands the bag to Christian, before whisking back out of the Brew faster than he came in.

"Of all the days," Hanna's voice rises an octave in disbelief, "God decides he will come in the day I am also here,"

Her cheeks are noticeably flushed, so I jump in before she either goes on a rage fit or starts crying, "Hey," I say softly, checking around quickly for any other customers who may be waiting on being served- the coast is clear,  
"Why don't you call up Mona and do some retail therapy?"

"Actually," Hanna sips the coffee, and I wince for her- it must still be hot. "I cancelled on her today. Wasn't feeling like it was a Mona kind of day."

"Oh," Part of me wonders if that means Hanna will be hanging around here, waiting until my shift ends.  
We don't talk about a lot after that, I tell her I need to get back to work and she understands. When she pays her bill about twenty minutes after that, I hand her her bag of things and the clarity of her underlying rage becomes evident once again, however she attempts to brush it off with a weak smile.  
 _Poor Hanna_ , I think to myself, wiping down the table where we sat _, I wonder what she thinks about love.  
_

* * *

 _"_ Thanks for covering my Tuesday shift, Christian," It's the third time I've thanked him since I've asked, and he's bashful as usual. Tuesday after school would be the year's first baseball practice, and this doe-eyed boy was currently my saviour.

"It's no problem," He dismisses, green eyes darting around. I've noticed he either has a hard time making eye contact with people, or he has a hard time making eye contact with _me_ \- which is flattering. If that's the case I'm glad he's too shy to make a move.  
Tossing the apron into the dirty laundry bin at the back, I grab my bag and coat from the hanger, noticing a new message from Hanna on the screen;

 _Y would caleb have ur watch?_

The air stilled. My stomach flipped like a sea at storm.


	7. Guilt is for Suckers

**OMG, who watched the finale tonight?! Feel free to PM me your thoughts, guys. Wild stuff.**

* * *

"One of the oldest questions man has been exploring in literature, is whether or not a monster is born or created. When you think of famous monsters, who do you think of? Frankenstein? Dracula?" Today's English class was a conjoined seminar with sophomore psychology. Mr. Fitz was in the midst of a very compelling question/ lecture, and most of the class was asleep- "How about just plain old villains? Who then? Voldemort? The common thing with these characters, is that although they are the villains, do you ever feel sympathy for them? There must be some quality about them that makes them undeniably human- undeniably like yourself? But what makes someone evil? Their actions?"  
He awaits a response, but the class is silent. Everyone shifts in their chair, unsure how to respond- except for Aria, who was pretty much staring at him like she was ready to grab him by the tie and screw him right there on his desk. It was an interesting question- but I was as lost as everyone else. What makes a person evil? _Yes, it is their actions, but... Is it their reasoning?_  
"Who here has read Lolita?" He asks- six or so hands slowly rise, one of them being Aria's. Ezra nods, "Humbert Humbert was a villainous protagonist- what made him evil? What made him the villain of his own story?"  
Aria's hand shoots into the air, a very strained expression on her face. Over my shoulder, I glance at Spencer; giving her an _Aria's totally obvious look_ , and she snorts in response.

"Yes, Aria," He calls on her, Adam's apple bobbing. _Wow. I wonder if the sexual tension is only evident because I know, or is everyone including Bridgette Wu totally onto them_?

"He's the villain of his own story because of his perversions." She answers, tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. "He loves Lolita, even though it's wrong and he knows it."  
 _  
Incredibly weird._

"Right," He says, "Humbert Humbert is the villain of his own story because of his very nature. He's conscious of it, and he loathes himself because of it. This guilt, these _emotions_ is what makes him raw- this is what attaches you to him, despite your own disgust with the situation. That's what makes the novel such a work of art, because it

pushes you to care for someone you don't want to. Who here has seen American Psycho?"  
I can't raise my hand to this one either, although I'm vaguely familiar with the idea. Some murderer, or something _. Was that the one where he's hiding behind the shower curtain, and you can see his shadow?_

"Patrick Bateman is a bit of a different story. A classic, nonetheless- but we don't watch it for him. We don't feel attached to him- we watch it for what he _does._ Because, let's be honest- he's a jackass. This breeds the next question; why is it in our own human nature to feel curious about a murderer? Why do we want to see him unravel? Is it because we, ourselves, have some primal connection to evil? Is there something just, so _fascinating_ about watching someone take another's life? Why do we feel adrenaline watching it?"

Someone calls out, "Because it scares us?"

"Maybe," Ezra replies, nodding, "But what drives us to want to watch it?"

Silence. _I can't believe Spencer hasn't spoken up yet, debate is her forte_ \- looking back at her, I see her with her brow furrowed- _she is really running it over. She's getting there_.

"The most important question though, is what compells a person to do evil things? Character or not, the ideas must begin somewhere, right?"  
He stands, hands out to the classroom, sweeping for a response. _How does a person become evil?_ It's not something I've ever really given a lot of- or maybe any- thought to. I think it's similar to the question as to why anyone does anything at all _. Emotions. Gut feelings. Maybe?_

"Spencer?" Ezra nods at her _\- there we go._ I turn to look at her speak, to which she says one word; "Pain."

"Interesting. Care to explain your reasoning?"

"Well," She begins slowly, as if testing the words on her tongue, "Experience shapes pain. You begin to act against things that bring you pain. Especially in developmental years. Cognitive development in a child, essentially in children between the ages two to seven will hold the greatest key factors for their life, according to the Piaget theory. This is where they will learn their basic interaction skills, and where subconsciously they shall look back as they grow into an adolescent in looking for an appropriate way to respond to a current situation."

They guy beside me is scratching his head profusely in confusion. _She may as well be speaking Pig-Latin._ Spencer goes on, anyway, "Adapting is entirely a solitary thing. Some people may be able to recognize that perhaps they grew up in a very hostile environment- therefore react to situations defensively- and they could make a change. Some people don't. And, if someone is brought up in all of the right negative factors- neglect, et cetera- you could have the perfect recipe for a child to become a sociopath, and they shall perform as one."

"So, you're saying," Ezra paces to the chalkboard- drawing the words _PAIN_ and _NURTURE_ in capitalized, yellow writing, "That ones upbringing is solely the culprit for evil actions?"

"Yes," Spencer nods, "I believe surroundings shape the life of an individual."  
 _  
Everyone experiences pain_ , I think to myself, _why aren't we all killers?_

Tentatively, I raise my hand into the air. Ezra grins, "Yes, Miss Fields?"

"What if it's both?"

Mr. Fitz's expression becomes blank, "Both of what?"

"What if," I try again, realizing that my statement really didn't make any sense, "a monster is both born and created?"

Slowly, his mouth lifts, like he'd just struck a goldmine or something, "Any reasoning behind this thought?"

"Spencer's right," I say- _god, how will I explain what I mean?_ "About you know, acting against pain, upbringing... People don't want to get hurt. But, aren't mental illnesses genetic?"

Aria interjects, "Research says yes."

Casting my eyes downward, I continue, "I don't really know a lot about this kind of stuff. But, I think it would be more of a combination. Someone was missing something as they grew up- attention, or something- and they'll find a way to get it when they grow up. But I think some people have to have a certain _something else_ to actually kill someone. To act evil."  
 _  
PAIN + NATURE VS NURTURE?_

"So this is the recipe?" He asks, and suddenly I'm not so sure. It can't be that simple, despite the infinite, respective combinations of pain, nature, and nurture there could be. There is an overwhelming complexity in the whole picture- there must be a pyramid of reasons why I am Emily Fields and not Spencer Hastings. Maybe that's not the best way to describe it. Maybe it is. I don't know anything.  
Fitz went on, but I was still stuck on the one question. _What makes someone a person? It all starts when someone is a baby, right? That makes sense? Babies first learn how to love and care for things- toys, blankies, mommy and daddy. They first learn what it is like to be loved, but they probably don't know it, because they're babies. When things get taken away from them, they cry, right? That's how you can tell if they love something. But what about the babies that get neglected and have to sleep in a dirty diaper, or get dropped off at some overpopulated orphanage? Those kids are the ones that grow up and end up being the people who carve slurs into bus seats and wear heavy eye makeup, and talk back to the teacher's for no reason at all- or they're mutes. Yeah? The troubled kids with the tragic backstory? But this doesn't make psychopaths- not always, at least. What makes someone pick the wings off of flies or go kill stray cats? It can't be boredom. Or it is. It's boredom and it's something else._  
 _Why am I me? I don't even know what I'm like. Am I kind? Am I quiet? Am I charismatic at all?_ Once, when I was just a kid- six or seven, my mom took me to the national park.  
 _  
"Mom?"_ I asked, absolutely fascinated by an anthill in the dirt. My dad was with us that day- it was his last day home before he would be deployed again, but I still had yet to fully understand what that meant.  
 _  
"Yes, honey?"_ She replied, turning- and then surprised by how far behind I'd fallen as I'd stopped walking aside them. _"Stay with us, dear! Come here!"_ She calls, an expression somewhere between worried and embarrassed.  
Fear quickly surged through my body as I understood the fact that I may be in trouble for not staying next to my parents. Mom always told me not to stop if we're ever walking somewhere- last time I did, I'd gotten a very stern talking to. Hurrying, I caught up to my parents- thankfully, mom wasn't too uptight with dad around.  
 _  
"Why are ants important?"_ I inquire, as I watch a group of teenagers up ahead toss a water bottle back and forth. They seemed so rowdy and powerful.

My dad chuckled, " _Why are ants important_?"  
 _  
"Yeah,"_ I say, _"There's so many of them, and they don't do anything."_

Dad appeared thoughtful, while mom looked troubled. After a few steps, he answered _, "They're food for other things."_  
 _  
"Like spiders?"_ I scrunch up my nose in disgust.

" _Well, yes_ ," Dad laughed, " _But I meant more like frogs."_

" _So they're only important because they're food?"_

Dad shrugged, " _Everything is food, Emmy. Ants are food for frogs, frogs are food for birds, birds are food for lions."_  
 _  
"There are no lions here."_

Dad grins, holding out one of his big, calloused hands, " _Come here, Emmybear_."  
I grab onto his hand and he swoops me up, puts me on his shoulders, and I squeal in glee- despite the fact that the ant question is still bothering me, deep down. Mom quickly chimes in, " _Careful with her, Wayne!"_  
" _Ahh, she's fine,"_ My dad laughs, giving me a reassuring squeeze around one ankle, " _You're right, Emmy. There are no lions here."_  
 _  
"So the ants aren't important?"_ I'm glad the topic was brought up again- I was entirely unsatisfied.  
 _  
"Everything is important."_  
 _  
"There's more ants on Earth than people_ ," How could something so small- with so many of them- be important? They were easily replaceable. _"If I killed all the ants I could see, it wouldn't make a difference_."

Before I knew it, I was about ten minutes behind the lecture and experiencing an existential crisis. On the board, by the original chalk words, now lay some lines pointing to  
 _UPBRINGING, TRAITS_ , and _TO ACT AGAINST ONE'S SELF_.  
Uncomfortably, I could no longer follow along nor did I care to- my mind felt vexed. Checking my watch, I see it's 11:54. _Thank God_. Only fifteen more minutes until lunch.

* * *

"That was so stimulating!" Aria crooned, after the period ending bell had rung, "Ezra really got me thinking."

"I'm sure he did," I tease, winking at her. Spencer laughs, "Yeah," Playfully, she pokes at the tiny girl's arm, "Really _sexy_ thoughts."

"Hey!" Defensively, she swats Spencer's hand away, "Keep your voice down."  
Spence and I share an amused look, following the flow of peers from our English room down to the Junior student wing, where Ali and Hanna are already waiting. Hanna looks entirely sullen- as she has all day. Not even returning my hello this morning, which gives me the sneaking suspicion that she is thinking there's something more going on with Caleb having the watch than the truth. _The truth_ was that I had _absolutely no fucking clue_ how Caleb ended up with my watch- but I'm just as curious to know. Not that I've had a chance to explain our shared bewilderment, given my lack of chances. There would be something rude and desperate about trying to explain through text, but same goes for public confrontment. _Awkward. A little bit rude. A lot of unnecessary drama. I'll wait until we have some alone time._

"Hey girls!" Ali chirps as we approach, "Han and I made the _best_ fried banana melts in foods today," She gives the other blonde a slight bump of the hip, "Sorry we didn't save you guys any. Han was really chowing down today, but they were _delish_. Maybe we could make them next get together?"

The passive dig at Hanna rippled throughout the group like a high octave sound wave- present, for sure, and everyone squirmed as it passed their ears but pointing it out was kind of useless. Hanna rolled her eyes. We all found out ways to ignore the comments as they came.

"Sounds..." I croak, _moving on_ , "nice? What're they serving for lunch today, does anyone know?"

"I think there's leftover mystery meat from Friday." Spencer replies unsurely, which causes Aria to quake. "Skip it. It's probably more _mystery_ than _meat_ by now."

"That's horrifying," _One would expect more from Rosewood High. Although, we really shouldn't... Rosewood is all for looking good on the outside but being all rotten on the inside, it's like the unsaid motto._ "Well should go somewhere else, then?"

* * *

"Alright, ladies," Ali hums happily, sliding in beside Aria and Hanna on the opposite side of the very cramped booth at Dairy Queen. All I ordered were some onion rings- the talk of fried banana melts earlier had given me a very guilty grease craving. Entwining her fingers, the blonde rests her chin against the back of her hands, "I have some very exciting news."

"Do tell," Aria prods, removing her fry pocket from the brown paper bag. I pluck one from her, and she furrows her brows at me fervently. Shooting her a sheepish grin, I hastily pop the fry into my mouth and return my attention to Ali, whom was clearly waiting.

Once eyes were on her, she waggles her brows, "I know of a party we can attend."

"Is it one of Noel Kahn's beer chugging festivals?" Spencer asks dryly, stirring the straw of her milkshake. However, at the mention of his name Ali's face drops into a scowl, which the brunette doesn't seem to notice, "Because despite how much I love watching a bunch of gorillas take rounds on a beer bong, I'd rather not."

"No." Ali answers quickly, "I'm talking about a _real_ party. No more baffoons."  
If Noel Kahn's shindigs didn't count as _real_ parties, I'm not sure I want to know what a _real_ party must be. Because usually a whole bunch of dirty, drunk pigs was enough for me to want to leave. But, then again- maybe a _real party_ consisted of a bit more than that.

"Where is it?" That's the first I've heard from Hanna today.

"Old Hollis," Ali replies quickly, signature, smug look plastered on her face.  
 _  
Old Hollis? What an odd place_ \- it made my gut tingle with what could be known as good sense- even though it was referred to usually _as Pam-Fields-Paranoia, Em_.

"How'd you get invited?" _Screw the Pam-Fields-Paranoia, that seems sketchy to me_.

Ali shrugs, "One of Jason's friends."

"Ew," Spencer immediately dismisses, while I at the same time counter with, "So one of Jason's sleezy college friends invite you to some party? Yeah, that sounds real safe, Ali."

The blonde groans in exasperation, "Em, it was one of his _girl_ friends."

Hanna pipes in, "Well, I'm in." Followed by a shrug. Ali beams, and embraces Hanna in a tight hug. Biting my lip, I look down at my little bracelet and swirl it around, skin burning.

"See?" Ali crows gleefully, "Hanna knows how to have a little fun!"

"Yeah," Hanna echoes, sounding lost. At that moment, I look up to see her peeking at me, eyes narrrowed.  
 _  
Alright, this has got to be straightened out- and fast._

A deep sigh leaves Spencer beside me, "You two will need a chaperone. I can tell."

"Never trust Hanna with booze," Aria jokes- of course, she's referring to the time Hanna tried to pick a fight with Becky from AP History, for no reason at all other than the fact that Hanna was boozed up and the girl dissed Nicki Minaj- _when she wasn't even having a conversation with the poor girl_. She'd just overheard.

" _Hanna?"_ Ali purrs, casting a sideways, troublesome glance in my direction, "I think Em's the one we have to worry about."  
 _  
Yikes._  
My chest shrivels up in shame, and I laugh nervously. The constriction in the air around us became very evident- the " _too soon_ " factor must've been in play in everyones minds, because it sure was in mine. Hanna appeared taken aback, but undoubtedly satisfied with the criticism, which basically confirmed my theory that she _seriously_ must think that Caleb and I had something going on.

"Drinking isn't for me," Diffusing the tension wasn't really working. I clear my throat, "So, when is it?"

"Saturday. Does this mean you're in?"

"I..." _Am I?_ "Guess?"

 _Ahh, crap. I really don't want to. But knowing Ali, she's going whether or not we are- so may as well join. It might be a good time for a talk..._

Aria points a fry accusingly at me, _what?_ "You will still help me with that thing on Sunday, right?"  
 _  
Thing? What thing? Crap, Hanna is really throwing daggers over there. I don't want to look even more horrible by admitting that I forgot about whatever thing I must've said I'd help her with.  
_ "Of _course_!" I emphasize, hastily stuffing a onion ring into my mouth, "Uh-huh." Nodding. _Sorry, Aria. I have no clue what you're talking about. I'll still help, though._

Aria narrows her eyes, "Even if you're hungover?"

"Hopefully I won't be." And that's the truth.

Puffing out her cheeks, Aria slumps over in her corner- parties weren't really her _thing_ , "Well, if all of you are going, I'll go, too."

This causes Ali to squeal, "Yes!"

"Han?" Spencer interrupts, "Are you alright over there? I don't want to ask if you need a tampon, but you look a little... really pissed."

"Fine." Hanna presses a tight smile, "I'm just fine."

She's seething.


	8. Upside Down

**This will be my last update for about a week or so! Headed to Toronto for some family visiting :) Thank you for all the feedback and support guys!**

* * *

"Han," I prompt, patience waning. Sure, I think I understand what's up, but this is just immature. "Hanna!" I chuck my Rosewood Sharks Athletics shirt at her from across the aisle in the change room. Fifth period gym class was only shared by Hanna, and with her attitude today was really beginning to get old _. Actually a bit insulting that she thinks I'd been flaunting with Caleb behind her back._

"What!" She snaps, snatching the shirt midair and hurling it back at me.

"I'm talking to you!"

"Well," Hanna places her hands on her hips, " _What?"_

"You have our running log, right?"

Wordlessly, she reaches into her PE locker, rifles through a miniature pile of old, dirty clothes- _what is with my friends and their disorganization?_ \- and pulled a little red book from her purse. Our running journal was where we recorded all of our progress when we went on our weekly runs in class- our times, our heartrate, and our calorie count- it was downright belittling, and I guess that's why we got to choose who our partners would be. Naturally, mine was Hanna. She offers it to me, scowling. Slowly, I pluck it from her hands, this wasn't really what I wanted to say, but there had to be a way to get her to start talking. Ease the situation a little. "We're still partners for badminton today, right?"  
The blonde shrugs offhandedly, before turning and stripping her shirt from her back. Rolling my eyes, I go on, "Hanna, come on. We're always partners."  
I wait for an answer- watching the muscles move in her back, as she pulls a sports bra over her chest, before unclasping and pulling her regular, lacy purple bra from underneath. She remains silent.

"Whatever," I mutter, turning away and changing into my own PE clothing. _Keep your cool_ , I remind myself _, I need a different approach._  
Out on the court, she'd reluctantly decided to partner with me when she was faced with the decision of me, or Nelly Anderson- who was about as useless as a bucket without a bottom when it came to sports. And, knowing Hanna, she'd take the oppurtunity to snark me out and blame it on being competitive. Annoying, but I can live with it for now. She must really be in a bad state of mind to think a watch must mean that Caleb and I were getting down and dirty.  
We were benched now, but we'd came out victorious in our first game. It went in rotations between teams, because Rosewood's gym was so small. They went all out for the pool, though- which was something I could at least be happy about.

"Hey," I whisper to her, "What's up with you?"

"Emily," She holds up her hand in dismissal, "I know _you know_ what's up with me. Don't play dumb."

"I think I know," I correct her, "And if it's what I'm thinking, Han- you're wrong."

" _Please,"_ She spat, gripping the badminton racket so hard I could see her knuckles burning white, "Don't even talk to me,"

"This is _ridiculous!"_ I hiss under my breath- making sure no one was listening. " _A watch_ , Han? I don't even know how he ended up with it!"  
Hanna just shook her head, refusing to look at me. _Damn it!_ "Remember-" I go on, "I was with you when I realized it was missing!"

"Don't remind me!" Standing up abruptly, she shouts at Mr. Couver, "May I be excused? I don't feel well."

* * *

 _How did Hanna ever get ahold of that boy?_  
Even though Caleb constantly had several phones on him, he seemed to either never look at his own phone, or he never had a phone of his own because it had been broken or confiscated. All I know, is that I'd sent him a text two hours ago, and again twenty minutes ago.  
That night, I figured I'd watch A Clockwork Orange. Given the content, the laptop in my room seemed to be a better option for me. Wouldn't want my mom walking in during that infamous rape scene- major uncomfortable. She'd probably grab the bible, strap me to a chair, and ask if I was going to do something harmful to myself or others.  
Never got that far, however. I fell asleep under the covers, the dark nature of the film was nothing more than background noise to lull me into a dream.

* * *

"Well, she's pretty pissed." Spencer affirmed, bonking her baseball bat lightly against the heel of her foot while she stretched. It was just before our first practice- the weather hadn't turned out well, there was a slight drizzle but Mr. Gareths, our volunteer coach, claimed that it was nothing that could get in the way of "hitting some balls and doing some runs." The fact that he even said that makes me question why he signed up to coach _girl's_ baseball. Was the moustache not a red flag for _anyone?_

"Yeah," I say dryly, "I can tell. Except I didn't go sleep around with Caleb."

"Oh, I don't think you did!" Spencer shakes her head, "She's being entirely impractical."

"It was just a watch!" I exclaim, "What about a watch makes her immediately think that we were getting it on?"

Spencer looks up at me, from where she was currently touching her toes, blinking quizzically, "Except... It wasn't only a watch?"

 _Wasn't... only a watch? What? How could it be more than a watch?_

"Come again?"

"There were some of your clothes in there," The expression of confusion slowly coming down on the brunette's face didn't help with the anxiety clawing it's way up my lungs,"Did you not look in the bag?"

"No? I just gave it to Hanna- Caleb never even talked to me." I ran my tongue over my lips- this was getting weirder by the minute. Him having my watch was strange enough- him having some of my clothes was just... well, it just doesn't make any sense!

"So... how did Caleb get your stuff?" Spencer asks, resting the bat against the chainlink fence around the ball field.

I shake my head, "You tell me!"

Spencer furrows her brows together, "You need to talk to Caleb."

"Trust me," I mutter, absently banging the bat against the grass, tearing up the soil, "I've been trying."  
Things didn't add up. Hanna seldom borrowed my clothes- but she _had_ before. But how did she not recognize what things she borrowed? Hanna wasn't that daft- if she played dumb, it wasn't to us. Hanna knew her stuff, people underestimated her, and she either didn't care- or was tired of caring to correct people when they knocked her down for it- but I know better.  
The girl links her hands together, raising them above her head in a stretch, I suddenly don't feel like being here- and the practice hasn't even started yet. "I thought that they would maybe be together... like, _forever_."

"I used to believe in forever," Spencer quips, taking a few strides over and placing a hand on my shoulder, "But forever is too good to be true. That's why we should focus onmaking our right now okay." She gives me a few pats, which I assume are meant to be comforting, but it just feels like dead weight smacking my shoulder. "Don't worry yourself, Em. Hanna doesn't hold grudges- especially when it hasn't even happened."

 _Easy to be so optimistic when it isn't your ass getting dragged through the dirt,_ "Thanks _," I really have to get my life together, and fast. Right now it's just one screw up after the next._

Things didn't look up much for a while after that. I'd probably spammed Caleb a total of thirty times, contrary to the fact that I knew he more than likely didn't even have a phone. I had to track him down through Paige McCullers, after I'd overheard her talking to her friend in the locker room about how Caleb had fixed her laptop for a hundred bucks less than the guy at Best Buy was asking for- and how Caleb had totally spiced it up with all knew memory systems and apps. "Best deal!" She had exclaimed, "I feel so bad everyone was so sketched about him when he first got here. He's actually super nice."  
So, through Paige I found out Caleb was indeed, without a phone, but instead he'd been hanging around the local library because of the free internet. This wasn't until Thursday, which, luckily, I didn't have to work after school. In the time being, I'd spent the school days trying to be the bigger person and avoiding Hanna- not so much for myself, but for the others, and for Hanna herself. While she still believed Caleb and I could've been being a bunch of douches together, my presence wasn't helping her cope. On Wednesday, Aria and I went out to lunch while the others enjoyed the cafeteria pizza. During gym class, we shared our running log and then I paired with someone else. I kept a respectful distance from her before I could get things sorted out- but something about the space felt so wrong. Was it really the right thing to be doing? Or do I just feel bad because Hanna and I had always shared something of a special bond, and now being apart I felt like I was missing my left leg? We're all like sisters, I feel- and Alison may have been closest to me most years, but Hanna... she was always the other half. We just had such an understanding about each other- shared something deeper- in fact, in my more formitive years I'd wondered if our connection, to me, was something a little bit more... well, _personal_. The answer was no, of course- but our connection still stood strong.  
 _This mess needed to be mopped up, pronto_.

Parking my bike at the rack outside of the library- I pull my hair from my ponytail- it had been windy all week, and that, coupled with the bike riding left my hair blowing into my mouth, and that was just asking for a crash.

 _I don't see Caleb's car..._

 _Is it even worth going in?_

 _Worth a shot..._

Inhaling deeply, I pull the glass door open and enter the library.

 _Alright, now where's Caleb?_

The middle aged woman behind the counter looks up at me over her spectacles, and I wave tentatively. _Why do all middle-aged to elderly librarians think teenagers are hoodlums? Is our generation really that fucked up?_  
Over at the row of computers; I'm relieved to see that Paige didn't lead me astray. Caleb sat there, headphones in his ears, focused greatly at whatever was on his screen. As I approach, he looks up, notices me, and then looks back at his computer. _Uhm... okay?_ A moment after, however, who he saw seems to register a moment later and his head snaps back up, and he removes his earbuds slowly.

"Hi?" He says unsurely- he kind of looks like he's expecting me to dig my claws at him.

"I come in peace, Caleb," I sigh, raising my hands as a friendly gesture, before pulling out the chair beside him and taking a seat, "We have a bit of a problem, though."

"Do we?" Caleb blinks, and I nod.

"Yeah, well," I shrug, "At least I do. Listen, I don't know why you and Hanna split," His head drops back in exasperation, to which I quickly finish my statement before he can give me some kind of BS excuse. That wasn't why I was here. "But she thinks you and I were having a thing behind her back."

His eyebrows knit together, "What?" He laughs, "Why on _Earth_ does she think that?"

"Cause there were some of my clothes in the bag you gave to me to return to Hanna."

"O... kay?" He tosses his earphones onto the keyboard, "So she borrowed one of your shirts and left it at my house? Very Hanna-esque."

 _That's not it, that can't be it,_ "But," I shake my head. Caleb was less of an answer than I anticipated, "She would've recognized them?"

"Then what is it?" He counters, "Because it certainly wasn't a love-affair."

"Well," I wasn't leaving without at least one answer, "Where'd you get the watch?"  
There were a few pregnant pauses, in which Caleb looked like he wasn't quite sure what I'd just said, or why. Running a tongue over his lips, he narrowed his eyes at me, and then cocked his head to the right just the slightest bit, "Shop class." He answered.  
Further bafflement was the last thing I needed, "Shop class?" Echoing, I start tracing my fingers around my name on the bracelet, "I'm not in shop class, Caleb."

" _No_ ," Caleb says slowly, "You're not."

"So how would you get it in shop class?"

"When you came in, last week?" The boy prodded, which didn't jog any sort of memory. "You asked me for the name of that campsite Hanna and I went last year for her birthday?"

 _When did I do that?_

The notion of wondering what the campsite was does seem slightly familiar, but when it came to actually speaking to Caleb about it, my mind drew a bit of a blank.

"Oh," The fabric of the bracelet tickled my wrist, I scratched it absently, "And I took my watch off?"

"Yeah, I was working by the sander."

 _Well, that's that._

The dark-haired boy went on, however, shaking his head, "I don't know about your clothes though, I can't tell who's who's. I thought it was all Hanna's."  
This was probably the best I was going to get from him. There was no reason why he would lie, and he was right about the lack of a love-affair between the two of us. I'm not sure why I expected him to have the answer, but I did still have one question for him- one thing that he could help with.

"Alright," I shrug, "Thanks, Caleb. But can you do one more thing for me?"

"Sure," _Am I still scratching my wrist?_ Abruptly, I stop the motion of my fingers I hadn't realized I was still making. The flesh on was ripped, raw, and red where I had continued to do so. _Ouch._

Clearing my throat, I sigh contently- _things weren't really so bad_ , "Could you talk to Hanna?" Caleb appeared pained at the prospect. "Please? She'll listen to you. She won't listen to me."

"Isn't there some kind of code," The boy groans, "That's like, _best friends over ex-boyfriends_?"

"Well, I'm sure I could get through to her eventually," I joke, "But it would be over so much faster if you just talked to her."

"Why?" He scoffs.

"Because she is still head-over-heels for you, Caleb- whether she wants to admit it or not."  
This causes him to shut up for a minute, and that's all I need to know to understand that he's still head-over-heels for her, too. They could work out whatever it was that they were going through- or at least I hope so. It's up to them. Although, even if someone loves someone else, it doesn't always mean they're good for one another- but no one can decide except for them.  
I give him a warm smile, "I'll figure it out. But, I'd appreciate it if you could give her some... clarification."  
He sighs- wrapped around my finger. _Bless Caleb for being such a good guy underneath his tough-boy exterior._ "I'll do it."  
"Thank you."

* * *

By Saturday, it's obvious that Caleb probably hadn't gotten around to talking to Hanna. But I'm not concerned- he's probably building up the courage. Yeah, I'd probably sent him into the battlefield with Hanna by asking him to talk to her, and nobody wants to be there, but they can't be iceberg cold with each other forever- couple or not.  
Carpooling to the party had been very strange- Aria's parents had driven the two of us- plus Spencer- to Blue Jay, where we'd all fabricated the fictional tale that consisted of: _dinner and a show, and then staying the night at Spencer's._ Simple enough. Hanna and Ali had gone to the party with the same older female friend that had first alerted Alison to the party, which was fine. The two had been becoming increasingly close the last few days.

"I see it like this," Aria had said earlier, when the topic was brought up, "Alison is the shark, and Hanna is the blood in the water. She's going to move straight towards that drama and eat it all up."  
Aside from the fact that I really wanted to deny that- it was true, and I was totally aware of it. A gleaming example of the phrase _; the truth hurts_. Aria was just as confident, however, in the notion that things will soon clear up- they applauded me on my meeting with Caleb, and told me to shake it off. And I agreed.

"Tonight should be fun!" I say, as we begin walking down the street to the given address. We'd bought some water bottles at Blue Jay- since they would likely come in handy later. They'd been stashed in Aria's backpack, which she also insisted on carrying for this very purpose.

"I'm glad you're not focusing on the negative, Em!" Aria encouraged, holding her hand up for a high five as we walk. I oblige.

"Well, what's the point?" I shrug, "It'll be fine, and I know it. Why stress?" A white lie- the corner of my mind trumpets with doubt, but a more rational part of me believes what I'm saying. Things always work out.

Old Hollis began to disintegrate into what was called College Block- although Hollis was technically a university, for some reason everyone just called it that. This was the more rundown part of town, where the kids attending the school could actually afford to live. Unfortunately, because of this, the place always looked inherently sketchy.  
We passed a blonde university girl sitting on some townhouse steps, her makeup smudged from what looked like tears, a cigarrette dangling from her fingers, and a little grey tabby cat rubbing it's head against her thigh. Some guys in a beater cat hollered at us playfully as they drove down the block. A girl and a guy walk hand in hand on the other side of the road, the girl laughing hysterically as he swoops her up into his arms. Two guys struggle to move a couch out of the back of a pickup truck. _Everyone has a life_. _There are billions of lives being lived this very second_.  
Soon enough we rounded the block into a new row of townhouses, and that was when the thumping bass could be heard.

"Well, at least we didn't get lost," Spencer expresses hopefully, "That''s one win for us."

"Touche," Agreeing, I leer around at the houses, trying to pinpoint the exact building the music was coming from. The whole street was littered with cars. "I think it's that one there," I point down to the third house on the right, where the cars seemed to be the thickest- not to mention the fact that there was a whole plethera of people in the backyard hollering.

"Yup," Aria agreed, "I'd say that's it."

"Should someone text Ali and say that we're here?" I inquire, fixing my hair nervously, tossing it to the side, and running my fingers down to the ends, twirling it frantically, "Or do we just go in?"

Spencer hums, "I think we're just supposed to go in. But our chances of finding Ali in there are slim- by the looks of it. So we should text her anyway."

Aria already had her phone in her hand, "I'll do it."

"Alright," Spencer sighed, looping arms with both of ours, "We've got some babysitting to do."  
The thumping of the music grew only louder- and so did my anxiety- the closer we got to the house. I'd heard all the horror stories about university parties- gang rape, singular rape, sometimes people get stabbed. At least Noel Kahn's parties were... generally sane. There had never been a rape, or a stabbing- not to mention the drugs that could be here! There was usually pot at Noel Kahn's party, one time Russell Jacobs told him that he'd bought some coke to party with, Noel had kicked the shit out of him and told him never to set foot in his house again. It was actually quite admirable. Noel may have been a total party dude- but at least he had _some_ sense.  
There were several guys and girls on the front porch chatting away, some smoking, and no one looked twice at us as we passed. We pushed open the front door with enough ease as if it were to our own home- there was no host bouncer grilling us about our age, like I half wished. All there was, was the smell of sweat, alcohol, bodies milling around and music so loud it was hard to hear myself think.

"Let's try to stick together!" Spencer shouted over the music, as we passed a passionately kissing couple in the doorframe to the kitchen. Aria and I just nodded at her, wordlessly concurring to her suggestion.  
Unsurely, the three of us hung around the island counter, waiting on Alison answering Aria's text.

"Beer?" A short, wide-grinning guy offered, holding out a case to us, "You ladies look like you could use a drink!"

"No thank you!" I politely decline, Aria and Spencer answering the same. The guy shrugs good-naturedly and moves on- making me catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the other side of the kitchen. I carefully swipe my finger over lips- the new lipstick I'd bought didn't hold colour too well. _Waste of money..._  
"Has she answered yet?" Spencer asks the smaller girl impatiently, and Aria shakes her head, "I don't think so." Pulling her phone from her pocket, she clicks the screen on,

"Yeah, no, she hasn't."

Spencer groans, "Why did I agree to come to this?"

Aria begins comforting her, and the two begin talking- I'm too busy scanning the crowd to join in. I keep catching myself in the mirror, my gaze drawn to it. I look past my own self in the reflection, look at Spencer and Aria speak, but not really pay attention to what they say. Past them, I see some guys at the fridge looking for food, and some girls pour shots for each other- while a few more guys watch from the distance _. Lives, lives, lives_.  
That's when I see the figure of Hanna Marin glide past the doorway, falling over some other blonde jock- who catches her.

"Guys!" I say sharply, whirring around at Aria and Spencer. Aria jumps, startled, while Spencer furrowed her brow at me. "What?"

"I just saw Hanna."


	9. Stone(d) Cold Killer

**Sorry about the time it took for this one! Busy, busy... But I'm still so happy that I've been getting the responses I've been getting ahah :) Lots of love. This is where it'll start to pick up!**

* * *

I tucked my knees underneath me, wrapping my arms around my body and took in the scene before me. It was a bit windy- the uncut grass was long enough to sway in the breeze, but not enough to obstruct my view of the town beneath me. The sky had that milky, blue-grey kind of colour, and that reflected down onto the world; providing a heavy, yet peaceful atmosphere. The same feeling in my gut. Pathetic fallacy. Reflection. Birds chirped in the air above, a flock fluttering out from the trees and into the sky. There was a certain kind of untouched serenity that surrounded my body, a warm blanket draped over my shoulders. Freedom.

"You just saw Hanna?" Aria repeated, craning her neck to get a better look over the crowd.

"What was she doing? Where is she?" Spencer questioned at the same time, eyes narrowed, "And why isn't she answering my texts?"

"Well," I jut a thumb towards the doorframe, my stomach tightening. What ever sexual tension was happening between those two, it's giving me all the wrong feelings, "I just caught a glimpse of her over there. And she seemed _really_ drunk," I added that last part just to tweak Spencer's inner frustrated mother. It worked.

"How long have they been here?" The brunette groaned, pushing herself to her feet. Hastily, I followed, and Aria too, with a small, "Wait up!"  
Swerving around Spencer, various booze-soaked college kids, and a couple (or maybe not) making out passionately against the wall, I follow the general direction that I saw Hanna stumble in. Scanning the sea of people was a little bit harder than I first assumed; there were a lot of bottle blondes in college. _Blonde- not Hanna, blonde- not Hanna, blonde- not Hanna_. This was a fresh reminder as to why I don't like parties. And where the hell is Ali?

Whirring around, I ask, "Still no word?"

"Nope." The girl replies, pulling it from her pocket in a very similar fashion as she had three minutes ago, "Yeah, no, she hasn't said anything."

"I just vote we leave," Spencer shrugs incredulously, the waves of annoyance washing off of her, "Let them get alcohol poisoning. If they aren't going to answer, what's the point? Obviously none of us want to be here."

Thoughtfully, Aria cocks her head to the side, nodding ever so slightly. However, I'm far too set on finding Hanna. Confronting her. And, not to mention letting her go make some regretful, stupid decisions. "No," I whisper, setting my eyes to the crowd again, "You guys check down here. I'll look upstairs."

The hesitant, tired look shared between the both of them convince me to turn heel and get the hell out of there before they can argue. _We're a group and we save each other from doing stupid things_ , I think sorely, dodging around a few guys leaning against the railings of the staircase. The fleeting thought to ask them if they've seen a really drunk looking blonde girl and a creepy guy had past here, but again; the amount of blondes present in this house made that question a little more work than I had time to give. There's a mysterious dark spot on the carpet that could either be barf or spilt liquor; it was hard to say.  
Upstairs was less crowded than the bottom floor, that's for sure, but there was also the impression that behind every closed door was a drunk pair having some private time. _Gonna have to start opening doors and become_ 'that girl who opened doors on everyone having sex.'

"Hanna?" Apprehensively, I call out down the hallway, "Hanna, are you up here?"  
There was no answer, although a few guys and girls in the lineup by the bathroom peeked at me curiously. Damn. I was hoping to get some luck and avoid the awkward situation about to unfold.  
I slip towards the right hand side of the hall, where there seemed to be a burnt out light because it was a lot darker than the other side, which is probably why more people were crushed together, which served a great alibi once I started opening doors. _I can't believe I'm doing this. Damn it, Hanna!_

"Hey, Hanna are you back here?" I ask, although she clearly isn't. There's a murmur of no's. Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I reach out and place my hand on the doorknob, and twist it open. I'm kind of scared to look.

"Hanna?" I call quickly- but there's no Hanna, just some oral sex that didn't stop despite being walked in on. Gross. Slamming the door shut, I move on to the next one,

"Hanna?"

The fact that this room seemed empty makes my stomach turn incomprehensibly. The music didn't seem to reach here, and the only light in the room was from the bedside lamp. There was something undeniably... creepy about this room. "Hello?" I call out, feeling the little hairs stand up on my arms. "Hanna..?"  
There's a lump in my throat, I swallow it down and leer around the room; open closet, no one in there, but there's some glass doors on the other side of the room that must lead to a back deck. _Where is she? And why is no one in here?_  
Laughter makes me jump, and I whirl around trying to find the source- the room was just as empty as it was two seconds ago. But the doors...  
Anxiously, I hurry over to the glass doors and slide them open, poking my head out and inspecting the area. Yup, a balcony; and yes, it was occupied by two suspiciously familiar blondes and a third male counterpart. They haven't noticed me yet. Must be the booze, cause that wasn't a very quiet door.

"Hanna?" I prompt, and all three of them turn- bingo, there she is. With Ali and the mystery man. The sight brought me an unusual tightness in the chest.

"Jesus," I breathe, "We've been looking all over for you guys!" A bit of an exaggeration. We texted Ali and started poking around for Hanna, but, I'm still irked.  
Ali appears pretty collected, the guy, someone that I still don't recognize even up close, standing between the two of them, arms resting over the railing around either side of them- and Hanna swaying on spot. "How much has she had?" I point at her- I can't tell if she's glaring or so drunk that she's trying not to puke.

"She's fine, Em." Ali laughs, leaning into the guy- her cool, nonchalant attitude starts to make my frustration boil a little bit more. And the fact that she is- _again!-_ coddling up to some stranger! He could be a murderer, a rapist, some kind of goat sacrificing creep- he could have genital warts! How can some people just... trust? But maybe, if I were to be painfully honest with myself- it was more of the dismissal from the most centric person in my life that twisted the knife in the gut. My opinions aren't anything to her. Her whole existence held significance precedence over my own life.  
A reminder that I am just not as important to her as she is to me.

"She doesn't look fine." I insist stubbornly, habitually reaching out to grab ahold of the intoxicated girl, before remembering my current standing with her. Ridiculous.

"Em," Ali rolls her eyes, tossing a lock of her blonde tresses over her shoulder and turning away from me slightly. Another familiar scene. _Why is she being like this? No, not this time..._  
"Can I talk to you?" I ask lowly, meeting the daggers her eyes were throwing at me with the same fire. Alison lets out a heavy sigh, and throws the boy an apologetic smile,"I'll be right back."

 _Bitch._

She follows me back into the eerie room, shutting the glass door behind her. Reluctantly, I take a seat on the bed and look her over for a moment- there was never any other explanation to her actions in more "superior" social settings than to throw everyone beneath her under the bus. And that game was getting really, really old.  
"You dragged us here," I begin, "And then you don't even answer?"  
Alison raises a singular, cavalier shoulder, "I didn't think I was babysitting. I invited you guys here to have fun, not follow me around like a bunch of brown-eyed Labrador puppies."

 _Translation: I don't want to party with you, but I'll invite you so you can't burn me for going without you._

"Well," I spit bitterly, clenching my jaw, "If you don't want to babysitting- what's with Hanna, huh?"

A haughty laugh escapes her lips, "Please, Hanna needs this."

"This whole thing," I emphasize, a small wave of nausea washing over me about Ali's mindset, "Is ridiculous."

"You're being ridiculous." She counters just as quickly, eyes not leaving me for even half a second. It kind of blindsides me; the blunt, absolute malevolence burning under those blue eyes. Harsher than she needed to be, she... is still pissed about the Noel thing?

"Ali?" Is she seriously still pissed about the Noel thing? Have I been in her spiderweb this whole time? "Is this still about Noel?"  
The guy. Hanna. She knows what to do to make people hurt- it's like a talent. It was all too well laid out. Make me trust her. She hits when you feel safe. Classic. How did I not suspect? _I knew it was too easy!_

She quirks a brow, "Is it?"

 _How do I answer that?_

With a whoosh, the glass door slides open in perfect cosmic time; Hanna leaning against the doorway, pouting. The guy follows behind, looking only vaguely interested but mostly bored.  
"What're we doing?" Hanna manages to slur, and Ali is all smiles again.

"Back to the party!" She purrs, "And we're taking Em."

 _Are we now?_ My mind has a lovely coating of pissed off sarcasm- but what is Ali up to this time? The other girl's face falls in visible disappointment, "Oh. Why?"

"Yeah, _Ali,"_ I drawl, "Why?"

"Cause, Emmy," Captively, Alison snaked forward and wrapped a hand around my wrist, "Needs to learn how to have fun."

It's a trap. We both know it. Between the two of us, like the unsaid connection that rippled anger through her veins and pulsed into my own skin as she held onto me.

"No," My voice gets caught somewhere behind my larynx, "That's okay. I'm not in the mood."

"And you're never going to be in the mood," Her fingers tighten around my wrist, tugging me forwards, "If you don't get out of your bubble."  
 _Damn it, Ali, no!_ The guy's staring at me questioningly, Hanna huffs audibly, and Ali is giving me that personalized predator look.  
Before I can stop myself, nervous giggles pop out of my mouth, "No," I insist, "Ali, you were right; drinking isn't for me." _I shouldn't even be here._

 _God why couldn't it have been Spencer and Aria to find them?_

"Em," The blonde pointedly dismisses my comment, "You're too cute. Who said you need booze to have fun?"  
Fuck there is no getting out of this is there. Pulling my lip into my mouth, I begin to gnaw it tediously- think, there has to be something you can do to give her the slip... "Uhhh..." I drawl- mind blanking.

Smugly, Ali gives another rough squeeze to my hand, "That settles it!" She announces, faux-excited, "Let's go, then." She began tugging towards the door, and my legs slowly began to drag in the same direction.

"I should text Aria and Spencer!" I declare- thrusting my free hand into my pocket to grasp for the phone-hoping the desperation wasn't shining through in my voice. Then again, she could probably feel my heartbeat with the vice grip she had on me. Alison scoffs, "Ah, don't worry about it. They can take care of themselves."  
My hand freezes on the cell. Fuck. _Do I do it anyway?_ Slowly, I pull it from the pocket and look down at it; allowing Ali to guide me wherever they were headed- at least it was downstairs. Unlocking the screen, I open up my past messages with Aria; thumbs flying over the keypad;

 _found ali and hanna, cant talk, dont know where theyre headed- SOS ali is -_

"Em." Ali says sharply, and I jump- turning the phone over in my hand, "Don't text them. They're fine."  
 _But am I?_  
I keep scanning the heads in the crowd for some kind of familiar face- as Ali lead her harem through the crowd, back into the kitchen, and outside through the back door. Back here- there were such festivities as a beer bong being chugged, and a game of what appeared to be some kind of poker. Since I don't know which kind of drunks could focus on simple poker- I decide that it must be strip poker. Otherwise why bother?  
But we didn't stop here, she kept going confidently through the yard and around the house, arriving at what appeared to be a cellardoor. _Alright- enough of this_.  
Wriggling my wrist, I try to escape the girl's unrelenting grasp. She glances at me over her shoulder, feigning concern, "What's wrong?"

"I'd really rather not go down there," I insist, still all but flailing my arm around trying to get her to let go.

"You're always _so_ concerned." Ali laughs, "Loosen up!"

"I'm trying," Muttering, I give a final yank of the arm, but even that doesn't shake Ali.

This is when the guy piped in for the first time, "It's just an only pantry. We put a couple of old couches down there- use it for hotboxing."  
 _Hotboxing... pot!_  
Ali shrugs playfully, "You said drinking wasn't your thing."

"What if pot isn't my thing either?" I counter, there's a squirming feeling in my gut. _God, Ali, let me go!_

"Then you can join Hanna," She states simply, "She won't be having any."

Hanna whined, "I wish!"

Letting out a chuckle, Ali began to descend the steps, "Tip, Em; if you ever drink, don't try smoking. Heavy risk of vomit."

"Noted." Glumly, I allow her to drag me forewards again. She'll let go of me down here, and eventually I can give her the slip.  
She pushes the door open, and I am immediately engulfed in warmth and the smell of weed- it makes my eyes water at first. There's a short, dark hallway before it opens up into another half-lit room with a bunch of people lounging around- there's no room on any of the couches anymore, and people have resorted to sitting on the floor. Two bongs are being passed around, and a few others are peacefully puffing on their own joints.

"Heeey!" A guy greets- classic stoner looking guy, may I add. Shoulder length hair and I think he's wearing a floral shirt, "Welcome to _mi casa!_ "

"What's up, Trevor?" The guy greets, giving the stoner a friendly fist bump, "What shit's yours?"  
Ali and Hanna sit down on the floor- and I follow suit. Only then does the blonde let my wrist drop. I cradle it towards me like an infant- I hadn't noticed how sore it now was. Trevor points to the yellow bong someone was cradling between their knees, lighting. "That one. Nothing too crazy, just my home grown shit. Tame, but it works."

 _What the hell, Ali?_ I never pegged her as a pot kind of girl- in fact, she'd never even mentioned an interest in doing it before now. I wonder how fast I can get out of here.

"Right on, buddy." The guy who's name I realize I still don't know, takes a seat on the arm of the couch beside his friend. He casts an appreciative look over at my captor, and she flirtatiously bats her lashes back at him. Good thing I'm not drunk- this is Noel Kahn's all over again.  
Someone pokes my shoulder, and I look; it's a girl, holding out the larger, more intimidating looking purple bong as an offering. Politely, I decline, and she shrugs. Not that I'd have any clue how to use it. I watch as she pokes around the bowl, and then brings the top of it to her mouth- lighting the bowl. Inside the base of it, thick smoke begins to build and be pulled upwards and into her mouth, down to her lungs- she strained to get as much as she could from it and then quickly pulled it away from her, exhaling at the same time as the person next to her grabbed ahold and pulled the remaining smoke into her own body. The stream of white seemed neverending, but it did eventually and the girl hacked in pain.  
 _I have to get out of here._  
Averting my eyes, I look down at the concrete and notice my hands are shaking. To distract myself, I begin picking at the worn purple bracelet Ali gave me- and swivelled around to check out the hallway where we entered, and then back at Ali. My heart jumped in my chest when I saw her in the middle of taking the yellow bong from the guy beside her. Temptation to tell her not to do it burned all the way through my mind- but I knew she would anyway; this was part of my punishment.

"Hold up," The guy said, letting go of the bong so Ali could hold it on her own- beaming ear to ear. The guy scraped out the ash from in the bowl and then crumbled a few more pieces from a plastic bag in, "Do you want me to light it?" He offered, and Ali nodded. I couldn't look. But I soon heard the sounds of the water bubbling as Ali pulled through the top, I took the opportunity to whip my phone out and covertly finish the text to Aria;

 _found ali and hanna, stuck in the cellar outside SOS- explain later_

I sent it with a wind of relief, and when I looked back up, Ali was handing the bong back, a slow grin on her face. Hanna clapped in excitement, giggling, "Wow, Ali," She yawned, leaning into her, "I'm tired."

 _Opportunity_ _! It may be Hanna but it would give me an excuse to escape_ , "I can take her." I pipe in quickly, curling a hand around Hanna's shoulder. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

Ali's eyes were already bloodshot, and she chirped in response, "Han, how're you feeling?"

Hanna shrugged, "Kinda tired."

"I think," Ali snickered lightly, "You need another drink." This time, she just grabbed Hanna and stood, "We'll be back," She announced to the crowd, but I jumped to my feet, hurried around the two of them and managed to escape the cellar before they did. The cool, night air felt great on my skin compared to the smoky, musky hotboxing room. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I unlocked my phone screen-

 _on our way. then we leave- this is a disaster._

 _You can say that again_ , I think, consoled by their lack of interest in the event.  
Hanna and Ali emerge from the room- God, do I want to give Ali shit. But I can't right now. She must notice me glaring because her face contorts in amusement, "Oh, Emmybear, you're so cute."  
Groaning, I turn away; crossing my arms over my chest. I don't even want to look at her.

"What is with you?" She laughs, giving me a light punch in the arm- more torture. She wants me to yell, to do something, so she can rub everything she has against me in my face.

"Nothing, Ali," I say through clenched teeth, still refusing to look at her- instead staring at the poker game that had been going on. Wasn't strip poker, after all. Seems like an opportunity missed, if you ask me. "You know I just don't like parties."

"One day," She prods me again, an uncoordinated hand reaching out and grabbing me by the chin. Begrudgingly, I allow myself to look at her, "I'm going to make you like a party, Em. One day you'll have fun."

"Not today." Grunting, I jerk my head away from her hand, "You know, Ali- this is all really stupid. Why don't you just pull your big move of getting payback at me and get it over with."  
Her blue eyes narrowed into slits- sure, Ali was all about games, but she liked it best when everyone played along. Calling her out when she was playing was her biggest pet peeve. That'll get me hit twice as hard, if not now, then later; she'll make you laugh, she make you cry but only in time, and always on hers. Admirable, yes, but ultimately, pretty evil.

"Fine." She says the single, venomous word, and turns grabs Hanna by the wrist in a similar way as she did to me. Curiously, Hanna turned towards her, eyebrow quirked- but before she could ask a single question and before I could walk away; Ali had moved her hands to either side of the girl's face and crashed their faces together in a kiss.

 _What?_

My hurt was only semi covered by the initial shock. This wasn't what I was expecting.  
They pulled away, Hanna appearing rather violated and confused, but Ali was laughing hysterically, "I'm so sorry, Han," She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand, "When in college, right?"

"Uhh." Hanna gaped, eyes darting around, "Sure?"

I was too busy trying to figure out whether or not I was more surprised or genuinely upset. That was a rather daring attack Ali pulled- and it didn't even really work...

"Is this a bad time?" Spencer deadpanned, arms crossed and eyes narrowed- seemingly emerging from the shadows. I've never been so glad. Aria wasn't far behind; standing with her mouth gaping in a shocked 'o' and her brows knitted together.

"Actually," I reply before Ali can respond, sweeping past her and joining the two brunettes, "It's the perfect time. Let's leave,"

"Wait," Aria chimes, pointing at the still very confused, very drunk Hanna, "Are you okay, Han?"

Alison scoffs, "Everyone needs to stop asking that. She's fine."

"I wasn't talking to you," The tiny girl spits with a surprising amount of fury, "Hanna, are you alright?"

Her blue eyes darted back and forth between the three of us, to the pouting, glaring, _I-didn't-get-what-I-wanted_ Alison- unsurely trying to decide the correct answer. Which was, the truth- or face Ali's wrath. _No one else needs to be on that fucking train_ , I think bitterly, and then pipe up, "Didn't you say you were tired?"

"Oh," Hanna says breaths, forcing a laugh, "uhm, kind of. I'm kind of tired, a little bit."

"You can come back to my place with us," Spencer says softly, looking Hanna over- her intensity wasn't directed at her- but at the other blonde, "You're starting to look green."  
She wasn't really, but it seemed to be Spencer's concern trying to talk our friend out of making a bad decision and staying at this mess with Ali all Pineapple Express.

Quickly, Hanna's hand rises to her cheek- eyes widening, "I do?"

Instantly, Alison rolled her eyes and grumbled, "You guys suck at having fun."

"Maybe it's not fun for us, Ali!" I snap, "Maybe you're being a jackass!"

A small hand curles around my wrist, "Em," Aria whispers, "It's fine, we're out of here."

 _She's right, and thank God she is._

Inhaling slowly through my nose, I close my eyes and allow the oxygen into my body, "Okay. It's fine."

"So, are you coming, Han?" Spencer prods one last time, her body beginning to turn towards the exit. Whether we're fighting or not, I don't want Hanna here with Ali- not in that dank cellar with those creeps. With one last glance at Alison, Hanna reluctantly nods and wobbles over to us- reminding me unusually of a sick puppy with it's tail between it's legs. Alison says nothing, but turns on heel and stalks away from us, while we do the same. Out of the party. I check my watch; we hadn't even been here for an hour and a half.

* * *

"Well," Spencer hisses quietly as to not wake Hanna, whom had passed out on her bed the moment she hit the mattress. The three of us had to collectively undress her out of her jeans and blouse, and then hoist her onto her side, on the bed where she now snored. After the three of us had also exhaustingly changed into our pyjamas, I had proceeded to tell them about Ali (and Hanna) at the party- since I felt like that would've been a weird conversation to have while Hanna was still conscious, and also, it would be weird to talk about that in the cab. "I say we cut the cord, guys. Ali has officially gone frickin nuts. She's lost it. She's a sociopath."

It feels like air is being slowly released from my chest as the crushing reality of Ali's sadistic personality continues to show. There's nothing I could ever do about it and I know it. _You can't change people who don't think there's anything wrong._

"Well," Aria shrugs, scratching her head in bewilderment, "What was that tonight? Kissing Hanna? Talk about weird."

"She was trying to make me feel bad." I mumble, suddenly feeling like the void forming in my chest was noticeable to everyone- and I hastily snatch a pillow from Spencer's bed and hug it against myself. Ali had always been a bit different to me than everyone else. I always wanted her approval. I always wanted to be good enough for her. She knows it- tonight was sure-fire of that, but no one else did. I'd never even confessed our kiss to anyone.

Aria furrows her brow, "So why kiss Hanna?"

My fingers clutch around the fabric of the pillow, "Maybe because- I don't know- Hanna and I are fighting?"

Spencer shakes her head, "That doesn't-"

Vibration that sounds like an earthquake makes us all jump- whirling around, I scan for the source of it. On Spencer's nightstand, lays Hanna phone- screen lit up. Lunging for it, I quickly turn it to silent before inspecting the name on the Caller ID;

"It's Mona." I announce, flustered. For some reason, that doesn't seem right. It was almost one in the morning, why would Mona be calling? "Should I answer it?"

Spencer pinches the bridge of her nose, "No. Let it go to voicemail and then send her a text asking if it's an emergency."

"Okay." I place the phone on the floor; everyone silently waiting until the screen goes dark. Lethargy pooled into the room like fog, as the adrenaline of the night sapped out of our systems and our eyelids began to droop. As Spencer suggested, I sent Mona a quick text on Hanna's phone, letting her know it was me, and asking if it was an emergency, and then put the phone back on the night stand. Spencer and Aria fell asleep in their makeshift bed on the floor, and I crawled under the covers next to Hanna; her body heat engulfing me- it made me tempted to reach out and curl around her, until I remembered how eccentric that would be, given the circumstances. Instead, I pulled my knees up to my stomach and tucked my arms into my chest. Do we really cut Ali loose? Tonight was strange- unnerving, even. Her behaviour too such a drastic turn that I still don't know how to react, it was a numb spot that I hadn't yet processed.

When I was half in a dream, I heard the phone go off, but couldn't find myself to care.


	10. And the Snakes Start to Sing

**Work, classes, things... So little freetime nowadays! Sorry about the wait on this one- had a bit of writer's block with this chapter, I'll admit. I was going to make it longer, but I already felt like we'd jumped around enough... Everything is appreciated guys :) As for the person who asked; yes, this is an Emison story at the core- wait for it... ;) And I'm glad the mood I'm trying to write is coming through!**

* * *

"Heugh!"

Jolting upwards, my heart pounds against my chest in shock of being so violently awoken from my sleep. _Shit, here we go._  
My vision was still a bit blurry from slumber, but considering that the grey light of morning was just barely seeping through Spencer's windows, I didn't bother to try to rub them clear; hopefully I'll be able to catch a few more Z's before facing today. But first, I instinctively bundle Hanna's hair up in my hand, as her body gives another weak dry heave.

"Oh, no," Aria grumbles, reaching out from her position on the floor and dragging the garbage can over to me, "Shottie not looking after her, though."

"I got it," I sigh, grabbing the little can and leaning over the blonde's body in order to put it on the floor in front of her. Sickly, Hanna lets out a whimper of dispair, she curls in on herself. Grabbing the spare hairtie from around my wrist, I secure her hair safely away from her face and then lay back down- if she hasn't shuddered away from me yet, I figure, she won't do it now. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to reach out for her and comfortingly rub my hand along her back, just as her body quakes again- followed by the chunky delivery of vomit hitting the trash can. I grimace. _It happens to the best of us, but it's still disgusting._

"That better not stink, Hanna," Spencer threatens lighheartedly into her pillow. Hanna groans again in response.

Closing my eyes, I murmur, "It's okay. Don't hold in that barf or you'll feel like you're stomach is full of sewage."

"I already do feel like that," Hanna whines, hiccuping, "Can someone get me a glass of water? Please?"

Aria's hand shoots into the air, "Not it!"

"Not it!" Spencer echoes just as quickly, disappointment wells in my chest; "Nooo," I complain, "Spence, it's _your_ house!"

"Suck it, Em. You were last on the draw." The girl taunted lovingly, snuggling back into her blankets. My body felt like deadweight just _thinking_ about getting up, "Come on," Pleading, I grab onto Hanna as if she were leverage to let me stay- although it didn't make any sense, "What if your dad is up in his weird pyjama brief underpants?"

"My dad wears silk robe pyjamas," She amused in response, "Any sightings of him are safe."

 _Have they forgotten that I'm probably the last person Hanna wants to coddle her right now?_ But what was done was done and decided, as the two of them curled under their blankets and I stretched my limbs in preparation to stand. Sitting up, I take one last, quick look at Hanna; still clutching her stomach and trying to breathe deeply with her eyes closed- she was probably also trying not to smell the barf.  
Quietly, I pad out of the room and down the stairs; in the kitchen, I retrieve a glass and fill it with water. It was weird to think that, years ago, the five of us would giggle and bake cookies in this kitchen like nothing was wrong- Ali would dictate, sometimes Spencer would counter, but mostly, we'd paint our nails and watch reality TV. Back then, we were all branches of the same person; our personalities weren't too far off from one another, and that's why we got along. But, I guess when people grow, their personalities grow, too; Ali's more devious tendencies to occasionally shoot someone down or her hunger for secrets and power became more manipulative as she aged, more dangerous. My own shy, insecure underlayer became slightly more paranoid that things were never really what they seemed. Deep down, or not so deep- there always existed the fear that I am not good enough, I am not as good as I think I am, people do not like me if they didn't stick through the formitive years with me like the girls had. That made any sort of rejection so much more personal- and when it came from Ali, someone who should be within my security, it threatened to crush the whole internal safety system. It jeapordizes what I think is right.  
And, with some surprise, I realize that I made it back to Spencer's room without feeling my feet touch the floor. Blinking, I gaze down at Aria, and Spencer; maybe they aren't dozing yet, but they might as well be. I don't think Hanna has moved at all.  
Making my way over, I sit down on the bed and gently touch her shoulder with my free hand, "Han," I whisper, "Here's your water."  
I can sense Hanna's hesitation in the way her body twitches, then takes a thoughtful pause, and eventually rolls over to look at me. My heart twangs with renewed sadness that she still thinks I would ever do something so nasty to hurt her.

"Here," I slide a hand under her shoulders, assisting to prop her up against the bed frame so that she can drink the water without choking on it. Begrudgingly, Hanna allows me to help, and then, somewhat shamefully, I hand her the glass. Her fingers tiredly pluck it from mine and she takes the tiniest sip imagineable, rubbing her temple with her other hand.  
Out of the corner of her makeup smudged eye- _she'd die if she saw what she looked like right now_ \- she glances at me and then sighs, "I might puke on you."

"Try not to." I mumble as casually as I can- but she looks so pale right now that I wouldn't blame her if she did. She remains impassive, taking another tiny sip of water, and I stand again- exiting Spencer's room. Something tells me she wouldn't care to ask where I was going- and she didn't- so I wander down the hall to Spencer's pristine bathroom; flicking the light on, I take in my reflection for a moment. Deep bags. Inert, dull eyes. Uneven skin. The longer I searched for something, the more of nothing I saw looking back at me.  
Running my hands down my face, I approach the sink and twist the hot water on. Cupping my hands beneath the stream before it got too scalding, I give my face a few good splashes. _Everything's fine, Em_. Blinking, I pull away just as the flow became too hot to touch. I then twist the cold on to even the temperature out- and I gently pad the water off of my face with the hem of my shirt. No one looks as alive as I imagine them to be. Everyone is a walking person, just like me. Nothing more or less.  
I test the water now, it's lukewarm- opening the cupboard by the bathtub, I pull out a grey face cloth and soak it, before turning off the water and then twisting all of the excess from the fabric. I make sure to turn the light off as I leave.  
Back in Spencer's room, Hanna had slumped back down into the pillows, the glass resting on the nightstand; remotely untouched. She stirred when I re-entered the room, and again when I sat down on the bed next to her.

"Here," I say repeat, causing her to roll over and squint at me. Gently, I run the damp face cloth over her forehead and down her cheeks; trying to remove the makeup that had been caked on from last night. The blonde flinched as I neared her, and I sighed; we really needed to actually talk about this disaster, but now didn't quite appear to be the time. After that, I bunched up the cloth and ran it over her eyelids; where the mascara stuck a bit more stubbornly. "Do you remember what happened last night?" I ask quietly, just to ease the tension forming between the two of us.

She half-shrugs, "Sort of."

"Do you remember Ali kissing you?"

Her eyes snap open, a crease forming between her brow, "Now that you mention it... I kind of do? What was that about?"

 _Back at this again_ , I think with a constriction in my chest, "I don't really know. We were trying to figure that out." _Spence and Aria were, at least._ Hanna looks me over unsurely, and grunts; as though remembering only now that she was supposed to be upset with me. Progress.

* * *

As it turned out; Aria's " _thing_ " was to help her read over lines in some community stage production she had signed up for. I didn't want to say anything, but the script was damn near awful. The director of this show had also written it- some faux deep shit about kids whose parents didn't give a crap about them, and then there were drugs, and then they somehow ended up in a gang, which dramatically concluded with one of the main character's death. Aria had landed the role of Susan, the trusty, goody two-shoes sidekick of the main character.

"No," The word kind of falls of my tongue like lead, as I boredly grip the stack of papers in between my fingers, "Justin will never know. All we need to do is borrow the money from his account."

"But, Phoebe," Aria chimed back with much more energy, "We can't do that to him, it's so wrong to do that while he's in the hospital."

"We'll get it back to him before he even knows it's gone." Bending the corner of the page, "Trust me."

"It's just not right."

"Then I'll do it on my own." With a flick of my wrist, I flip the page- noticing that was when it was Phoebe's cue to " _leave the stage". Thank God._  
As I closed up the booklet, Aria gave a brisk nod. "That was... _okay._ We're just doing a reading, so I'm not going to try to hard to memorize."

 _When did Ali go so wrong? She'd always been off, I know, I know... But there was something so different about her last night. And kissing Hanna? Where did that even come from? It was so out on left field that I don't even know where to begin with wondering about it. Sure, okay, she must have caught on by now that I have a certain... fixation on her- but really? That was just... wild._

"Yeah," I agree bemusedly, wiggling the corner of the paper, "Any other scenes?"

"I think just one," Aria murmurs, flipping the pages of her own copy carefully, "Way near the end..."

 _I can't believe Ali would do that._

"When is this production happening?"

 _I thought we were best friends? And she just... played me. Lulled me into a false sense of security. What kind of animal does that? Wait... no... Am I thinking of mermaids?_

"Not until like... August. Where are you going?"

Aria looks up at me, confusion hardening on her features. _Where am I going?_ Looking down at myself, I realize I'm standing. _Standing?_

"Bathroom?" Quickly, I cover up any hint of bafflement on my part- _God, I need to hold it together._ "I'll be back in a second to do that last scene. I just feel like I'm going to pee myself." My cheeks lift in such a forced smile that I feel more like stone than a person, and then I turn on heel fast enough to only catch a glimpse of Aria's quizzical stare.

 _That was really weird of you,_ my conscience points out, _you really need to get a grip._

 _I can get a grip when everyone else does._

Twisting the handle open of Aria's bathroom door, I slip in and close it behind me; only now noticing how often I'd been ending up in my friends bathroom's having a reality check lately. Taking a deep breath in through my nose, I observe myself in the mirror quickly- I don't look too bad, if only a bit shaken. God, Ali lives in my own skin more than I do.

Sighing, I open up the cupboard over the sink- hopefully I can get lucky and find an aspirin in here. Fishing around, I pull out some deoderant, Proactiv, hand cream, a mysterious unlabeled jar of cream, and some febreeze- followed by small black beetle falling onto the counter. _Ew._  
It was alive, though- just a bit dazed from the fall. It's stiff little legs slowly flailing in the air, until it found it's momentum and rolled itself off of it's back, antennas probing the counter unsurely. I peer into the cabinet, just to make sure it was the only one hiding in there. It was.  
Scratching my head, I watch as it waddled over to the bar of soap; his probing antennas touched it and he jolted away quickly, turning back the direction it came. I guess he didn't like the smell...  
Obscurely, I lift the febreeze up to the cupboard again; it was lavender scented, like the soap. _What am I going to do about that bug? I wonder how many chemicals are in this can?_ Lowering my arm, I start to shake it; an idea forming in my mind. I bring the nozzle over the bug and press down; the mist shooting down and assaulting the beetle; who cinched up for half a second and tried to flee; it's legs unable to carry it away from the stream fast enough. He seems okay. Fascinated, I follow it; keeping pressure on the button. _Febreeze really mustn't be that bad_. Boredly, I return the can to the cupboard, and turn on the tap, running my hands under the water. The beetle is still slowly, groggily, trying to make it's way over the counter. He's looking for home. Some place to hide. Who knows, but this isn't where he's supposed to be. I watch as one leg slips out from under him, and then another, and then as he immobilised completely.

 _Is it dead?_

Unrolling some toilet paper, I lift it up- it doesn't squirm. It's dead. With a heavily present feeling of apathy, I toss it into the toilet, and I can't help but realize that if he wasn't dead already, he'd be dead now.

* * *

Monday morning was overcast, with a slight drizzle that gave the world an oddly serene grey tone. I waited for Spencer under the front foyer- she had sent me a text in the early hours of the day, claiming that we really needed to talk about Ali; just she and I. _Leave it to Spencer to figure it out_. Part of me was overcome with anxiety, another felt strangely at peace with the situation, the weight of our... _non-romantic relationship_ being lifted from my shoulders. Not that it really mattered anymore. The kiss happened so long ago. Anything that happened recently wasn't really... obvious?

"Emily!"

Jumping, a whirl around- standing in front of me was not Spencer, but instead, Mona.

"Oh," Confusion warms the inside of my mind, "Hi, Mona. What's up?"

 _Could you imagine if someone like Mona found out? My conscience sneers, God, you'd be dead meat._

 _It's nothing._

 _Is it?_

 _It's nothing._

Feeling my pulse increase, I suck in a breath and check my watch absently, not really absorbing the time, or what it read, or how the gears turned, or the hands running over the face- or my hands over my face, my heartbeat, my blood-

"Do you have somewhere to be?" Mona asks condescendingly, glaring.

"Huh?" I gape, awkwardly pinning my hands behind my back- "Sorry, Mona. My mind's all over the place today. Repeat that?"

The poor girl looked like she was already entirely done with the conversation (or lack of) that we were having, which, no offense to her, I didn't mind because Mona and I had never really been friends. And to make matters worse no one except Hanna had ever really apologized to the way we treated her back in seventh grade when she was apinktail wearing geek. It just made our encounters so uncomfortable to me.

"I hadn't said anything yet," Mona deadpanned, "You were just staring at your watch."

 _Nice one,_ "Sorry," I repeat, and motion her to continue speaking, "Go on?"

The brunette took a grounding breath, which made me cringe a bit inside because everything that came out of my mouth appeared to be coming out so unintentionally rude.

"I wanted to say," The girl started, "Thank you. For taking care of Hanna- despite the shitshow that you brought her to."

My chest tightened, "I didn't take her," Bristling, I feel my fingers curl into my knuckle momentarily, "Ali did. She wanted everyone to come."

"Some idea _that_ was," She singsonged, with a dramatic roll of the eye, "And also, thanks for delivering my message."

The bitterness was as straighforward as biting right into a lemon.  
 _Can't I ever catch a break?_

"Mona," I groan, leaning against the wall behind me, "I'm sorry if I didn't tell Hanna right away. We're not on good terms, and it was a wild night."  
Scoffing, the girl fixes the collar on her expensive leather jacket; I take a moment to observe my own apparel today; Rosewood Sharks washed out tee, some jeans from H&M, sneakers from Target and a jacket from Reitmans. Yeah, that leather jacket was probably worth more than my entire outfit.

"I don't appreciate," Mona growls, "You trying to sneak in and steal Hanna away- and it's not just you, but for some reason, you just can't help but to crawl into everyone else's relationship with her."

There wasn't a doubt in my mind that it was a not-so-passive dig at the Caleb thing- which meant that Hanna had shared the suspicion with the friend estranged from everyone else. Funny how all of your worst enemies turn out to be your best friend's best friend's.

"I don't know what Hanna said," I start slowly, meeting her accusatory stare, "But Caleb and I never had anything going on- contrary to her belief. I don't know how Caleb ended up with my clothes."

Unimpressed, the short girl inspects her nails before shrugging, and purses her lips, "I think it would be better for everyone if you just backed off."

"I'm not backing on?" I counter- maybe it was only me, but my head wasn't quite wrapping around what I had _actually_ done wrong.

"I'm just saying," Steps forward, "That you need to quit your little game of acting so sweet an innocent. You're _toxic_."

"What's your issue?" I hadn't quite noticed how much she had begun to invade my personal space until I was looking directly down at her, eyes burning with hate. _Toxic?_ If there was anyone toxic here, it was Mona; backstabbing, two-faced, gossiping Mona. And she was trying to _intimidate me?_ I had nearly five inches on her, and a good ten pounds. I could knock her down before she could even get to the hair pulling or nail scratching. One good push is all it would really take.  
An aggravated energy twitched through my wrists, on their own accord, they rose past my hips- the exertion tingling to be released-

"Is there a problem?" Spencer harshly interrupted- the intensity of the situation rippling through the air awkwardly as the two of us didn't seem to notice her appearance. It sure caused me to jump violently, and Mona inhaled sharply, taking a step backwards.  
Twitching, I curl my hands into a tight fist, and release slowly, "No problem," I muster sweetly, through my teeth. I'd explain later- there was no reason to waste time on a delusional Mona.  
Spencer raised her brows, reading me with a look that said 'Sure thing, Em' in the most sarcastic of tones. She swept over me, however, and prodded Mona, "Really?"

"Really." The shorter girl copied my faux-honey coated voice, "Just discussing history stuff." As if on cue, the first period bell rung, and Mona twiddled her fingers at the two of us, "Ciao, ladies."

The two of us watched her leave without returning the regard, but once she was out of sight, Spencer twisted around, arching her brows again, "Sorry I was late. What the hell was going on there?"

"Not important," I wave her off; there was no reason to make a big deal out of the predicament. It really, truly, was nothing.

"Uh-huh," Spencer scoffed doubtfully, "Em you looked like you were about to punch her out."

That struck me more than situation, "What?"

"You were all," She gestured at my body, searching for an explanatory word, "Tense?"

"I was just," This just got weird. I wasn't actually going to do anything to Mona- did she seriously think that? "Yeah, I was a bit tense. But only because Mona was being all Regina George."

"Please," Spencer laughed, holding up a hand, "Mona isn't Regina George. She's Gretchen Weiners with a superiority complex."  
Spencer's witty snark wasn't quite strong enough to overcome the stress that I felt building in my temple. Yes, Mona had taken a toll on me- and Spencer was being oddly cavalier despite her wanting to talk with me, which was nice. Things could have been really uncomfortable, but she wasn't treating it as such. And I appreciated that.

"Are we ditching first block?" I ask, leering through the glass windows of the door; watching as the hallways emptied. Spencer gave a one shoulder shrug, "Might as well. I only have cooking."

"I have algebra." I murmured- I should really go to that class, my marks were already down, "But oh well." I really didn't want to go, though.

"Okay," Spencer twisted her lips, "I'll try to keep this short, then. Let's find some place to sit,"

 _Really_ cavalier.

We made our way over to a courtyard picnic table, where I stiffly took a seat across from her. Nonchalantly, she slides her bag off of her shoulder and plops it onto the table. I gnaw on my bottom lip, waiting for her to make the opening statement.  
 _She's fine with it. It's all going to go over smoothly. If she wasn't- then we probably wouldn't even be having this conversation. She'd keep it on the inside for a few days and let it marinate until it drove her crazy. Unless... She had figured it out way earlier? By the resigned, slightly irritated look on her face, that's just as much of a possibility._

"About Ali..." I croak, the silence becoming a little bit too unnerving,

"Yeah," Cautiously. Spencer rests her head on her hands, "I wanted to talk to you about this, well, because... You know her better- I think she trusts you the most,"

 _What direction is she coming from?_

"You just have a really trustworthy face. But, I'm seriously wondering about what to do with her- do we kick her to the curb?"

 _This was about... Ali's behaviour? The tightness leaves my chest- I'm so glad._

"I..." Do I not understand what she's trying to say because I'm so blindsided, or because she isn't being very clear? "What are you saying?"

"I mean," Spencer waves her hands through the air, "She's been weird lately, yeah?"

"Yeah," I agree, " _Super_ weird."

"Okay. You should talk to her."

What is with people and being so daft to the fact that I am currently in the cauldron with several others?

"We aren't exactly on good terms," Depression hits me in the back when I notice that this is the second time I've had to say that today- and it wasn't even nine o'clock.

"Yeah," The other girl affirmed, "And you never will be if you don't talk about it."

"Talking doesn't really work with Ali."

Exasperated, Spencer throws her hands into the air, "Make it work, Em!"

"How do you expect that to happen?" I hiss, a throbbing begin to form in my skull. Spencer purses her lips, opening her mouth to respond- but my phone chiming cuts her off. "Sorry," Shoving it into my bag, I don't even bother to look at whoever had sent me a text. Probably just Aria.  
The brunette across from me deflats, rubbing the nape of her own neck stressfully, "I don't know, Em. Things are just getting too weird for me. Something's off."

 _Glad it's not only me._

"Yeah," I exhale heavily, my hands felt like they were disintegrating into the surface of the concrete table, "That makes two of us."


	11. Pity Parties

**Hello again! Sorry about the shortness of this chapter, and the time it took to post! Life's been crazy. I was going to add more, but I didn't know how much longer that would take, so I figured I may as well add this. Let me know your thoughts, I appreciate it! And for the Haleb shippers, don't worry, their story will play out, too.  
**

* * *

I can't say much of anything happened those next few days. I didn't talk to Ali. I didn't talk to Hanna. I didn't talk to Spencer- or Aria, for that matter, although she texted a few times to make sure everything was okay. I didn't answer. I didn't talk to Mona anymore, or Caleb, or Paige, or Noel, or anyone. I went to school on Tuesday and regretted it, and then somehow feigned my mom into believing I was sick, just so that I didn't have to go. The only person I talked to was Christian at work, when I called to tell him I probably couldn't make it to my next few shifts. He seemed sad about it, he told me to feel better soon.

It wasn't sickness. It was exhaustion. I'd never felt so mentally strained- and that includes calculus. Everyone just wanted something from me that I couldn't seem to give, no matter how far I reached into my own gut- I'd pull out all my organs for everyone if I could do it, if that's what they wanted- if only it meant that everything afterwards would calm down. I'd make a real mess; I have a lot of secrets.  
I'm not sure how those days passed, really. I didn't leave my room much. I slept. It took me three tries to watch a Clockwork Orange completely, and it got me thinking on our conversation in English last week- that man in the movie was a monster, but upon being showed his monstrous ways he is so disgusted that he cannot perform like a normal person. And although, for a short period of time, this change benefited those around him while he endured so much pain. But weren't the men who changed him also monsters? Is it possible that we're all a monster, one way or another?  
And that really lead me down a draining mental path. A sluggish lump under the covers, trying to pinpoint the exact area of my personality that would label me a monster. It's easy to see in others, it's not so easy in yourself. Even Hitler thought he was doing a greater good.

"Emily?" My mother intruded, pushing the door open cautiously, and then crossing her arms over her chest when she saw me. "Really, would you give it a rest?"

"Give what a rest?" _Can't ever leave me alone..._

"You've been in bed for three days, you can't tell me you're still too sick for school."

Begrudgingly, I'll pull my covers closer to my body and mumble, "I'm too sick for anything..."

Pam blinked frantically, "What's that?"

"I'm too sick, mom!" I snap, "I don't feel good!"

"Too bad," The woman shot back, "Sometimes in life you have to do things even if you don't feel well! Suck it up!"

"What are you going to do?" How dare she try to dictate how I feel? It's like she's belittling my actual feelings. "Drag me to school?"

"Emily Catherine Fields!" She curled her hands into fists at her sides, face slowly escalating a redder shade, "Don't speak to me that way! Give me your phone!"  
Whirling in my blankets, I yank them off of me and quickly snatch the phone from my bedside table; hurling it at her feet, "Take it!" I growl, before burrowing beneath them again.

Maybe I'm overreacting. But it feels damn good.

" _What_ is with you, Emily Fields?"

"Nothing," I mutter- wishing I could bring myself the courage just to ask her to leave. God, she'd _explode_. "I want to be left alone."

"Is someone bugging you?" She countered quickly, "Is that what this is about?"

"No-"

"Is it Alison?"

Was it... _Alison?_ Yes, it was Alison. And Hanna, Spencer, Mona, Caleb, and _you_.

Pam shook her head profusely, "That girl is bad news, Em. I always said it. There's something off about that girl-"

"It's not Alison." Grunting, I stare down at a cinch in the carpet. Maybe it was myself bothering me more than anyone else.

"Emmy," Her voice softened, concern shining through in such a way that it somehow managed to irritate me more. _Guilt,_ my conscience pointed out, _you're so cold._ "You can talk to me if something's bothering you... You can always talk to me, you know that."

 _Except you don't understand._

 _You hate gays, so no, I can't talk to you about my bicurious crisis._

 _I hear you talk about how sick loonies are all the time._

 _You'd call the school if I told you about Mona._

 _You'd call Hanna's mom if I told you about Hanna._

 _And if you didn't do that, you'd take Hanna's side over mine because honestly how did Caleb get my clothes?_

 _You'd just make it worse._

"It's nothing." I repeat, this time more forcefully. "I'm sick."  
Tension rose in the air, and although I couldn't see my mother, I could tell she was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, trying to build the courage to keep talking, despite the fact that she knew that she was no longer wanted or welcomed here. Her own stubborn tendencies. Stupid tendencies. Annoying tendencies. Stupid, fucking idiot can't keep to herself- has to push everything. Can't figure out when she's no longer wanted around. Can't get her own life together so she has to poke around in mine. Useless. Makes my toes curl- my teeth grind.

 _I'm just so mad at myself, who am I kidding?_

Mom's gone. Maybe she had I point; two weeks ago, I would've told myself that sulking wasn't going to solve anything. Nothing's changed about that since then- the only thing that's changed is that more things have happened.  
Sitting up, it almost surprises me that I have a migraine again. But, there's some aspirin in my dresser that spares me the shameful, post-argument trip downstairs.

If sitting up caused me discomfort, standing caused me utter despair. It felt like I was rising through mud, or five hundred feet below surface; the oxygen rushing to my brain too fast and causing mini eruptions within my skull. Groaning, I hold my head and close my eyes for a second.

 _You're a real mess._

That's been a constant reminder lately. Squinting, I shuffle to the dresser, pulling open the middle right drawer a little too violently, and then snap the cap off of the bottle. I take three without water, just for good measure. Afterwards, I remove some clothes, and my watch; I'd probably miss my first two or three classes, but who cares. I'm trying. If God's up there, he can give me a check on my personal list of perseverence, or whatever; I don't know how it all works. _The bigger plan_. Sometimes I believe he's up there, but then I think about all the bullshit this world goes through, and my ponderings are trumped. Kids don't get cancer because God needs another angel. People mow each other down in war about Gods everyday. False Gods. Real Gods. People are horrible to one another, humanity is sick. The only time I'll truly believe in God is when I see him, when I die. Other than that, I think people should believe in one another and ourselves before we put our faith on an unseen, potentially cruel deity. Pessimistic, maybe. I'd gone to church often, when I was younger. My mother was a woman of God; and Jesus on the cross above the preacher scared me. He died for our sins, but no one changed. Perhaps Jesus, at the heart of the story, was only a man with a big heart and good intentions, in a world far too hard for him.

"When you think, Em," I sigh, exhaustion pulling at my limbs while I take a seat in front of my mirror. "You think way too much." My reflection frowns at me, sunken eyes tiredly begging me to go back to bed, "And about things that don't even matter."

* * *

Mom was surprised, when thirty minutes after our fight, I told her I was going to school. She offered to drive, and I told her I'd rather bike. She insisted she drove, because _it's cold and it's faster, and it's probably slippery out there, too._ I told her the cold would wake me up, and if the bike crashed, then it was karma for something and life was setting itself right. And then I left.  
I kind of hoped I'd fall, and knock myself out of my stupor. But I didn't. I was right about it being cold, though. My cheeks and ears stung by the time I locked it up outside of the school, and they began to thaw as I walked to my locker. In slow motion. There were two very big things I had to do today, although my energy was equivalent to a low burning flame; but it was best to use that last bit of energy rather than wait until there was nothing left.

I had to talk to Ali.

And I had to talk to Hanna.

Each separately. Each alone.

My biggest conflict is deciding which one I should get done first.

Ali loves rivalry, for better or for worse. If I told her I wanted to talk, she'd make the time to sit, she'd cock her head, arch her brows, listen, and use that information as ammo. It was always the same; open up to her, she'll take your words, and she'll store it for later or she'll line you up like a firing squad right then and there. Either way, she'd listen.  
Hanna was an ice queen. She'd ignore you, or if you tried to talk to her rationally, she wouldn't absorb anything being said. She'd be too focused on being angry. Which perhaps meant there would be more work put into her confrontation, but it was still Hanna; who, on the grand scale of things, was less terrifying than Ali.

"Oh, Em!"

She was also less prone to having unbelievably perfect timing. Tensing, I turn away from my locker, seeing the girl saunter down the far side of the hall, brow quirking, "Long time no see. Guess you finally decided to show up."

I think this would be the universe trying to tell me to grab the bull by it's horns. So much for class, today had different plans for me.

"Yeah..." I drawl, painfully aware of my oily my hair must be, how dead my eyes must look. "Hi, Ali."  
The blonde pulls up against my row of lockers, leaning into it heavily, "Where've you been?" The tone was slightly interrogative. I am but a wee worm writhing under the delicate talons of a robin.

"At home." I force a smile, but it drops just as fast when I remember I'm not here to make nice. "Could we talk?"

Her eyes sparked playfully, "'Bout what?"

I run a hand through my tresses, "I sort of mean... in private?"

"'Bout what?" She repeats, just as giddily.

"A lot of stuff." Since I had no idea where to even begin, I figure to be as vague as possible. Basically to buy me time, more than anything else.

Alison blinks, "I have French."

 _Bullshit excuse to irk me_.

"Then what are you doing in the halls?" I reply dryly, taking a moment to shrug off my coat, although, there's a chance I may be needing it again, if all goes according to plan.  
One of her shoulders raises in a nonchalant half shrug, while her face remains passive. Her eyes are gleaming, though. "You're still so pissed."

 _What?_

"I'm pissed?" _How did she gather that? Of course I am, but where did that come from_?

"Sure you are," Ali laughed, prodding my shoulder gently with her hand, "You always do that tense shoulder thing when you're pissed. I can also see you grinding your teeth from here."

Startled, I relax my jaw; I hadn't even realized I'd been doing that. And she... noticed? Blinking, I gape at her. She's not cold. She's amused, sure, probably finds this  
hysterical; but her eyes are warm.

"Well..." The word drug out on my tongue uncertainly, "..yeah."

The girl's face broke a smile as she erupted into a soft giggle, "You're so cute when you're mad, Em! Look at those puppy eyes!"

 _Puppy eyes? No, they're... they're all droopy and tired._

"No," I protest weakly, as she bounces back and forth on her heels, hands tucked behind her back and blue eyes fluttering, "Stop,"

"Kay."

"This is serious."

Alison sighs deeply, all momentous childlike innocence gone- instead replaced by a resigned, but still interested demeanour. Her expression hardens again slightly, and she twirls a lock of hair around her finger, "Yeah, Em. We can talk."

I'm tempted to define what the terms of our discussion would be- but I'd already gotten this far. "Okay," I open my locker again-

"Let's go to the janitor shed."

This just got weirder.

"What?" It feels like my brain is already getting exhaused, "The janitor shed? Why?"

Alison rolls her eyes, "Because it's private, it's heated, and I don't have a coat."

"Isn't it locked?"

"Mr. Hundt doesn't lock it. He always forgets. Probably from huffing so much glue in the seventies."

Since I deemed there to be no real response to that, I said nothing, and in silence, we walked back out of the school. Our feet sloshed through the melting snow as we crossed the courtyard to the janitor's shed. Ali approached it before I did, reaching out and placing her hand on the knob. Part of me hoped that just this one time it would be locked- solely for the satisfaction of seeing Ali, always so smug, have something gone wrong for her. That didn't happen. As promised, the door wasn't locked, and we slipped into the darkness. Inside, there was the truthful wheezing of an old heater, and Ali reached upward, pulling the chain down on the light. It gave the room an awful, draining yellow glow.

"It's disgusting in here," I mutter, taking in the surroundings; stained concrete floor, the smell of bleach, and dusty old cleaning equipment. Everything from a lawn mower to an actual wooden broomstick. "How did you find this out?"

"That Mitchell Dormer guy tried to get me to hook up with him in here," She replied absently, instantly making me regret asking. "What a creep, right? Makes me think he's into weird shit."

"Right," Dismissing _that_ topic, "Alright, Ali... I don't know where to start."

Patiently, the other girl removes paraphernelia from the top of a crate, and makes it into a seat. Crossing her legs and getting comfy. I may as well do the same, this will probably take a while.  
Looking around, I locate a stool hidden under a very dusty paint tarp. Cringing, I remove the tarp and toss it aside, brush off the stool, and then resume a similar posture to the other girl. Whom now sat with her elbow resting on her knee, chin resting on hand. Entirely patient and intrigued, she said nothing.

"Spence wanted me to talk to you..." _There was no right way to start this, was there?_ "And, I need to talk to you, too..."  
The girl laid her palms flat out in the air in front of her, as if showing me she had nothing to hide. _Maybe_ , my conscience hummed, d _on't talk about that 'You and I' business today. It can wait, you have more important things to talk about._

"You've been acting weird lately. It's starting to freak us out."

A long, exhausted groan escapes Ali's mouth. She tosses a lock of hair over her shoulder, eyes rolling into the back of her head, like she was rifling through her mental files to find the appropriate excuse.

"Em," She shakes her head, "This... you know, this happens to people. We all used to be close, but people grow apart-"

My heart sinks into my chest. Here we were again- well, here _I_ was again- in a situation where a friend and I have to speak about how we're growing apart. Why couldn't everyone just... get along, like we used to? What changed?  
"-you can't hang on to everything all the time. If something doesn't work... well, you just have to let people go their own ways."

"No," Holding up my hand, I stop Ali right there. "That doesn't really answer my question, Ali."

"You never posed anything as a question." The girl deadpanned, "So what exactly are you trying to ask me?"

 _Smartass._

"What's going on with you?"

 _Why'd you kiss Hanna? What do you know? What are you playing at?_

"What..." I continue, "What's your issue with me right now?" My conscience wouldn't let me out of this without a bit of personal closure, I could tell. "I apologized... I thought we were okay."

"Nothing's wrong with me," The girl scoffs, pouting and crossing her arms over her chest. There was a pregnant pause, however, before her demeanour fell and she opened up again, "But... okay, maybe I held a little bit of a grudge."

"Maybe," I repeat unsurely- more for my own curiosities than hers. _Maybe? What does she mean by maybe?_

"But, Em, I didn't want to... what's the word..." The blonde gnawed her lip thoughtfully. "Well, I mean, you did sort of see this coming, didn't you?"

"What's _this_?" I'm not following. "As far as I'm concerned, Ali, you just wanted to turn around and stab me one more time in the back, just for fun."

"No," The girl murmured, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes reflected a quiet kind of sadness. "Em; true friends go for the throat. You saw that coming, deep down. You're too smart not to. I know you did."

Deep down... maybe I _did_ know. It wasn't unlike Ali. And it's a feasible enough thought that she would catch on to my specific affections. She's too clever not to. Using Hanna as a seemingly random, yet personalized weapon was something I should have seen coming. It was up her alley.  
My silence must have motivated her to continue, "I don't want to push you away, Em... Honestly. I think we need to spend more time together."

 _We do?_

"Really?"

 _She really wants to spend more time together?_

The blonde nods earnestly, "Yeah. I think... it'll be good for both of us. You're so tense, Em. I was being serious when I said you need to loosen up, have some more fun."

"I've just been stressed..." I admit, looking down at my hands. Picking my nails. _When did this topic change to me?_ "You're sure there's nothing going on with you?"

She broke into a modest grin, shaking her head, "No, Em."

It didn't ring the truth, though. It was evident in her actions, her almost forced soft-spoken response, and in the way she tapped her foot a little too edgily against the crate. She wasn't ready to spill. But... if she wanted to hang around, if I gained her trust again, like in the old days- I could find out. For once, I knew exactly which angle to come from.

" _Okay._.. If you insist," I let my tone drip with honey, "So, about that stress relief- I'm ready for a total life makeover."

"Ooh," The girl purred just as playfully, "You know I love a good makeover."

Maybe I'd let Ali take my reins for a while. Control is the first step to her trust.

"What can we do?"

She arches a brow, "Are you going to freak out?"

"Not a chance."

Part of me believed it.


	12. Whipped

**It took me a long time to do this one, guys. Couldn't figure out how to do it right, so hopefully, this works well enough. Been a bit out of the groove, my apologies if this chapter is weak. Hopefully, this is when things start to get interesting ;)  
**

* * *

First, I got warm.

It wasn't in my body, but it was in was inside of me- in my skull, behind my eyes. My chest. My hands. My stomach. But... _inside_. My skin was cold, feeling the frigid late March air surrounding me. Everything was soft around the edges, and although the muscles at the corner of my mouth were pulled into a lazy, carefree smirk, there was a trumpeting at the corner of my mind letting me know how stupid I was for getting myself into this.

It started as soon as Ali and I left that janitor's shed.

"Should we skip the rest of the day?" Ali inquired, looking at me with a new-found fondness ever since I promised her reign on my stress problem.

Funnily enough, the thought of skipping just raised my blood pressure a bit more. _How Pam Fields_.

"I dunno," I admitted, looking down at my boot as it trudged through the slush. "I should actually get some stuff done. I've been hiding away too long."  
The girl clung to my arm with a giggle, "Come on, Em," _Don't do it._ " _We don't need no education_ ," The girl sing-songed into my ear, " _We don't need no thought control_ ,"

 _Keep up with your promise, the extra inch will get you a mile._

 _No, come on, don't be stupid._

"Nooo," It fell with an obvious sadness from my mouth, "I really shouldn't. We can do something after school?"

Ali shrugged, cocking her head to the side, "Yeah, I guess so. I think my schedule is clear, anyway."

Pulling open the front door, I held it for her first, before following, "Okay. I'll tell my mom you're getting me caught up."

"Mama Fields will really think that I'm the responsible one for once?" The girl snorted, "Unlikely."

I released a small breath; she was right, partially. But, then again, my mom would be so thrilled that it does turn out that I have friends, that she may just buy it. Still...  
"Maybe," I say slowly, she turns to face me as we walk, pacing backwards carefully, "I'll tell her Spencer is coming, too."

Her pink lips curl flirtatiously, "Better."

My heart jumps. She had me in her hands, like putty. I knew it, and she probably did, too. That's what makes her so good at what she does.  
At my locker, I begin to twist the combination instinctively. There was a certain kind of curious tension in the air, as I was all too aware of the blonde twirling her locks between her fingers nonchalantly. All too aware of the way my heart was pumping in my ears. Suddenly, I was elevated in comparison to the depression I felt this morning.  
"I'll keep you in touch, then?" Ali prompted, and I nod. "Yeah, sure."

 _Yes, yes, please do._

"Okay." Giddily, the girl sauntered away. I forced myself not to watch; a little bit too robotically, I reached into my locker and grabbed all of the necessary materials.

I'm going to be getting somewhere with her.

No more Noel drama.

I was hers.

Well, not hers- but in the sense of a puppeteer, I was glad to have her pulling the strings. She wasn't going to be using me; unknowingly, I would be using her. I would allow myself to get close to her for my own personal gain. Maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to beat her at her own game from behind the curtains.  
I didn't share this with Spencer, or Aria, however, when I ran into them between classes. They bombarded me with questions about where I had been, to which I stuck to my excuse; sickness. In return, I interrogated them with questions about how Ali had been lately, and I even ignored the look that they not so discreetly shared which suggested that I might be obsessed.  
"The usual," Aria commented boredly, at the same time Spencer added, "No different than usual. Have you talked to her?"

 _I just did._

"Haven't had a chance. I'd rather not do it over text," I shrug, "You know."

I'm not owning up to talking with Ali quite yet. Nothing has changed yet, and them knowing that the two of us would be having one-on-one hangout sessions would send them into disapproval. They had a tendency of doing that, and I'd rather not risk it.

"How about Hanna?" I project, reaching for my bracelet and picking it between my fingers, "Where is she? How is she?"

"Em," Aria gently reaches out, grabbing my wrist in her hand, "How much caffeine have you had?"

"None." _Am I being flighty?_

The dark-haired girl arches her brows, "You're sure about that?"

"Yeah," Breathing in deeply through my nose, "I'm a little highstrung right now. I need to talk to Hanna, still. This whole thing needs to be straightened out."

Spencer puffed lightly, "I'd say. She's starting to get pissed at us now, for not taking her side."

"I just can't believe she won't take anyone's word that I didn't sleep with Caleb," Shaking my head, I take a few steps back, "Anyway, I guess I can ambush her in gym class."

Spencer purses her lips thoughtfully, "Maybe not if she's around anything that could potentially be used as a weapon."

"Yeah," I scoff, " _Dodgeball me to death_."

"I wouldn't put it past her." She warned lightheartedly, before her eyebrows arch up frantically, "Oh! Don't forget practice tomorrow, Em. You already missed last week."

Baseball had all but fleetingly passed my mind.

"Shit. Right. Got it."

The class bell rung through the halls, and the three of us went our separate ways. I spent the remainder of Biology with Aria, while Hanna sat in the back, scowling at her poor partner all class. We didn't talk too much about any of the drama in my life, which was a nice break, considering my head was already full of it. Although, it was a little easier to forget now that I had the crushing amount of missed work to catch up on.

"What's a Bryophyta?" I prod Aria, whom was busy trying to focus a microscope.

"Moss." The girl answers, not looking up.

"Thanks."

No time proved to be enough time for me. I still had five whole worksheets in just _that class_ that I needed to hand in by Friday. In the halls, Noel Kahn waved hello, and tentatively, I waved back. Part of me was afraid Ali would see and later I'd get shunned for it. That didn't appear to be the case, though, as she fell into step beside me on the way to Photography class.

"I have an idea," The blonde purred, clutching onto me. My pulse increases.

"Oh?" I reply meekly, "What is it?"

"What it _is_ ," Ali emphasized, "Is a surprise. But it's all good if you come to my place."

"Shouldn't be a problem." Allowing myself an ear-to-ear grin, I fish into my pocket, grabbing my phone from the depths and opening a message to my mother. It should beokay, I think. The woman may object, considering that I had been "sick", but the catch-up card was a good counteractive argument. As for Ali's surprise; that's where more of my discern- it was hard to tell with her, but something in my gut told me I wouldn't like whatever it was. But, the excitement of wondering was a whole new thrill. _Let yourself take chances._

 _Hey mom, spence offered to catch me up on my work after school. Is that okay?_

* * *

PE class came, and Hanna wasn't around. Perplexed, I had simply gone about soccer practice like a ghost, I didn't seem to think about where I was going or what I was doing- I just did it. Why was she making things so difficult? Avoidance was just making my life a whole lot harder, if she could just be a bit more mature and talk it out with me like an adult, that would be great. But _no_ , she was taking all new levels of precaution to stay away from me- it made my heart drop. And obviously Caleb didn't have enough of a spine to hold up his end of the bargain. I didn't even want to bother tracking him down again; although, if I ever came across him, I'd tear a strip off of his little computer hacking ass. Just, seriously- she realized I was back at school and ditched?

While I was benched, I considered grabbing my cell and sending her a very blunt, angry message about facing responsibilities and not being so childish, but I decided against it. It would be like throwing grease on top of an already raging fire. I could just imagine her response, and it made me grind my teeth. By the time that class was over, and we were allowed to change, I had come full circle with the contemplation- maybe that ought to be the last little nudge to get her to confront me?  
Grabbing my cell, I notice my mother's name on the screen, alerting me to her response.

 _R u sure u r feeling ok? if u r then thats ok... how long?_

That was a good question... My thumb hovered over the keypad, mulling over how long this mystery activity could take. _Six o'clock? Seven?_ Biting my lip, I don't bother answering- I quickly change out of my PE gear and sneak as carefully as I can out of the gymnasium, instead I head in the direction of Ali's last class of the day. The dismissal bell rings before I can get there, however, and I manage to run into her halfway.

"What time do I tell my mom?" I inquire without greeting, the stress coming through my voice. I hadn't noticed how worried I was until right this second; the way my hands were clutching my dirty PE clothes, the stiffness in my legs, and yes, the way my voice raised an octave higher than usual. Ali caught on, as well, "Uh," She seemed taken aback, "Eight o'clock?"

" _Eight_?" Mom wouldn't like that.

The blonde nodded, then followed through with a smugly casual shrug in response, carefully whisking past me. I fell into step. "What are we doing?"

"I told you," Tossing a lock of curled hair over her shoulder, a freshman nervously side-stepped around her, "It's a surprise."

 _Secretive. She's lulling you into a trap, as usual._

"I'm not going to like it." Dryly, it comes out as more of a statement than a question.

"No," Ali admits, "Probably not. At first."

A long, anguished groan threatens to escape my lungs, " _Ali_ ,"

"Don't complain." Ali snaps, but then bursts into a smile, "Sorry, didn't mean to sound so bitchy. But it's fine, Em. Trust me." Her blue eyes glance down my body, and,wordlessly, she extends a hand, twiddling her fingers at me. Confused, I reach out and touch her hand with my own- which closes around me like a venus flytrap. Fingers curling in between my own, the warmth of her skin mingling with the clammy fear my palms betrayed. Self consciously, I pulled away- wiping the sweat off on my pants, and immediately regretting our loss in contact.

 _She just wanted to hold your hand, idiot. Who cares if it was sweaty?_

"It'll be okay?" Meekly, my eyes flutter around- looking first at Alison, then the floor, and the boy on the other side of the wall, then at Ali, to the floor again. My cheeks burn.

"Yes, Em. It will be just fine. Don't worry,"

"Okay..."

Nervously, I open up the messages with my mom, telling her that " _Spencer thought eight o'clock would be best"_

I did worry. I worried so much that it interfered with our conversation (or attempts of conversation)- I was all too aware that I must be coming across incredibly uncomfortable- not the confident laden girl I was going for. This lead full circle to me regretting my choice of decisions, picking at my cuticles and gripping the bracelet around my wrist.

I'd rather be in my bed sleeping.

I never should have left.

Even when I looked at her, and the halo of winter light that bounced off of her blonde locks as she walked, mittened and jacketed, with a bounce in her step, an ease at beauty that baffled me- I couldn't revel in the happiness. Deep down, I knew the more unfortunate side of our friendship overpowered the good. When it came to me, at least.  
"What do you think about?" She asks abruptly, catching me in a moment of sad admiration.

"Huh?" I blink, "About what?"

"No," She shakes her head, "Not _about_ anything. You're just awfully quiet. What are you thinking about?"  
Squeezing the handles of my bike- which I was walking awkwardly alongside us- I lie, "All of the homework I _actually_ need to do." I couldn't admit that I was thinking about us.

 _Again._

 _As usual._

 _Shut up._

"You're always so stressed," Ali points out, and for some reason I have a sudden compulsion to sass her that not everyone had life as easy as she did- but I refrain.

"I have a stressful life." I say instead, as we turn the corner to her street.

Thoughtfully, the girl takes a pause, "Can't argue with that."

Her simple understanding, lack of pressing of the subject, and her absence of condescending tease, wipe my mind blank. My shoulders drop slightly, defense mode shutting down entirely. I almost want to continue talking about how I've been feeling, but that could be pushing it.

* * *

We enter through her carport; where I drop off my bike, safe from the weather.

"Come on in!" The blonde chirps, grabbing the key from it's hiding spot under the ancient dalmation lawn ornament, which had never actually been placed in the yard. For as long as I could remember, it's been standing guard here, collecting dust. "Mom's out," She continues, "She doesn't get home till six, per usual. Dad will be home around seven- Jason is," Making an exasperated, vague hand gesture, " _somewhere_. I don't know. Don't care."

 _Why is she telling me this?_

 _"Okay?"_

Giving me a cheeky grin- she could read my mind. "You'll see."

Ascending the staircase to her bedroom, I take in all of the photos on her wall. Most of them were family photos from various events; a wedding when Ali was just a child, as charming as she's always been in her flower girl dress- school photos, and there was one with all five of us from ninth grade. Carving pumpkins. It was like looking at ghosts. I sat in between Ali and Hanna on the far side of the counter, while Spencer and Aria were closer to the lens, from where Mrs. D had taken the photo. Everyone was smiling; Ali looked pleased to be surrounded by her perfectly plucked group of friends, Hanna looked somewhat nervous, still on the chubby side then- one hand lay self consciously over her stomach. Aria beamed bright, her pink streaks as vibrant as ever. Spencer looked reluctant, like she didn't quite know what she was doing there. I looked... as sheepish as always. But, we all thought we would be friends forever. I guess those kinds of things just get harder as you grow up.

"So," I voice anxiously, "What's happening? Seriously, spill. We're here now."

Ali snorts, pressing her bedroom door open. Apprehensive born frustration begins to build behind my temples, as I wordlessly follow her, dropping my backpack at the foot of her bed. The girl whisks around me, shutting the door, tying her hair into a tight ponytail, she still says nothing.

"This is weird, Ali," I urge, "Just tell me."

" _We_ ," She starts, still darting around her room, to her closet, which she pulls open, _"are,_ " She shuffles around various trunk paraphernelia, finally retrieving an old iPhone box, "going to hangout."

 _Hangout? What kind of answer is that?_

"Obviously?"

"And," The girl continues, hoisting open her window, only to draw the curtains. "De-stress."

That's when it hit me.

"Ali," I scold, "No."

"You'll thank me!" She's beaming- the same kind of smirk that a kid wore when they were convincing their friend to do something totally risky and mischevious- like play seven minutes in heaven, or something. The kind where their eyes light up and their eyebrows raise, looking up with rosy cheeks and pearly teeth. Ali looked like a kid. It threw me for a loop.

"No," I repeat, a little bit more unsurely this time.

"Em," Ali said simply, sitting down cross legged on her rug, box in her lap, "I think you're making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Nothing bad is going to happen." I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, she goes on, "It's just me and you. We can do it totally safe- it's my parents'-"

" _Your parents?_ " I gape, and Ali rolls her eyes.

"Duh. How else do you think they can stand each other?"  
I'm not sure how to respond to that. I just continue gnawing at my lip- weighing what it was I had gotten myself into.

 _What did you expect?_ A part of me mocks, _a date?_

 _Remember your plan. Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe it's worth it._

Ali gave me a bit of an uncertain look, one I couldn't quite read, "It's totally safe. We can do it here- you can do it in a totally comfortable environment and know what to expect."

I'm not sure I'd call Ali's house a totally comfortable environment. A lot of things could go south- _like her parents coming home early..._

"How long does it last?"  
The girl shrugs, undoubtedly becoming more excited now that I was considering it, "Depends. Three hours- tops. Like, you'll feel a little funny for a while after that... but you won't be high."

Checking my watch- the time is 3:31. It could last until six thirty, tops.

"Your mom will be home at six?" I'm really just trying to somehow convince her out of her own idea.

"She's clueless," The girl scoffed. "I've done it, like, at least half a dozen times and she never catches on. By that time, if we do it now, we'll be okay by then. It's like, when you're still kind of drunk but not too drunk to pretend to be sober."

I know they say a lot of things about peer pressure. But... it wasn't really peer pressure. She wasn't giving me an ultimatum between her friendship or anything- and maybe she had a point. Shit happens. Maybe it was better to just do it now, with her, and know what to expect.  
Taking a deep breath, I sit down across from her. Ali claps, all but ripping the box open, "So here's what you gotta do," She explained; removing a red and yellow embroidered pipe, and a small sandwich bag containing a few buds of weed, visine, and a lighter. "I'll do it for you, but we're going to break this up," I could see her vibrating giddily, opening the bag- releasing that same scent I'd smelled in the _"Stoner hallway"_. She pulled out a bud, breaking it into slightly smaller pieces in her fingers, and then placing them within the bowl of the pipe. Once she seemed content with what she had, she raised her brows at me. "Watch carefully. I'm going to inhale- see this hole here?" She tapped the side of the pipe, revealing a second small opening, "My finger is going to go over it. Near the end of my breath, I'm going to take my finger off really quick and then put it back on. Understand?"

Intimidated, I nod, although I didn't really.

It gave me a bit of a sick feeling in my gut, watching Ali bring the pipe to her mouth, flick the lighter, and start smoking. It was one of those moments, not too different than the time I had my first drink- realizing we weren't kids anymore. We were teenagers doing teenager things. Innocence leaves one rebellious deed at a time.  
She lifts her finger, causing the embers to burn red as the last of the drag was taken. Removing the pipe from her lips, she holds a moment- a pained expression on her face, before releasing all of the smoke from her lungs.  
Giving me a hopeful smile, which I forced in return, she pokes at the little buds, turning their green sides over. "Now you," She offers me both the pipe and the lighter, and I take it, reluctantly. Carefully, I locate the hole and cover it with my finger.

 _This is it. It's no big deal._

"It's going to be kind of gross," Ali warns, "It's okay if you don't like it at first."

Nodding, I wrap my lips around the airway, tentatively bringing the lighter aflame, and hovering it over the buds. As soon as the flame began to touch them, I inhaled; a taste that I could describe in no other way than stale crackers invading my mouth. Cringing, I lift my finger off quickly, as Ali had, and take in the last bit I was willing to. Immediately blowing it out. There was a burning in my throat and a bad taste in my mouth.

"Ew," I complain. Ali giggles. Unsurely, I pass it back to her, and she finishes it off. I don't feel anything; I probably didn't do it right. Dutifully, the blonde scrapes the ash out of the window, before turning to me, "Do you want to try again?"

I don't see why not.

Shrugging, "Sure."

She grins, a slow grin. Her eyes are already red, and it's clear the drug was working it's magic on her. Sluggishly, she breaks up a few more small pieces, and hands both things back to me. I repeat. This time, it turns out a bit better; I prepare for the taste, the burning in my throat, and when I pull away, I take in a small breath to push the smoke further into my lungs. I hold my breath for about six seconds, before blowing it all out- coughing slightly. This made Ali bite her tongue, as she took it from me, finishing it off once again. I watch her stand- this is where I notice the warmth building in my mind. And I'm smiling. I think I can feel my cheeks smiling.  
And my hands- they're stiff, and cold.

 _This is so cool!_

 _This is so weird._

I look up at Ali- to find she was already sitting across from me again, packing up the supplies. "Wow." I don't really think about saying it. I just do. She peeks up at me, a knowing grin on her face, "Wow!" She repeats, "Em!"

I laugh. _How funny is this?_

She laughs.

"Oh, wait!" She exclaims, reopening the box. She pulls the visine out, expertly planting a few replenishing drops in her eyes, blinking frantically. By the way the edges of my vision were sparkling, I doubt my capacity to do such a complex stunt.  
"Here," The blonde offers, scooching forward until she was in front of me, "I got you. Don't freak out."

 _Freak out?_

Gently, she places a hand on my forehead, tilting my head towards the ceiling. "Left eye," She warns, although I can clearly see her holding the bottle. Another laugh escapes me. Which causes her to, as well. Trying to collect herself, she holds her finger to her lips, " _Shh_! I'll miss."

Biting my lip, I brace myself for the drop- which lands, first, just below my eye. "Oh no," The girl whispers- which causes me to lose it. _It was only one drop of visine, wasn't it?_ The devastation in her voice made it sound like it was the end of the world.

I don't know how long it took, but the feat was dealt with, the visine put away, and the box returned to the closet. I laid on the carpet, staring up at the bumps on the ceiling. There was a whole lot on my mind. A whole lot of nothing. Thinking was like talking to myself.

"How do you feel?" Ali asked, collapsing beside me.

"I feel good." I reply, knowing it was the truth. I did feel good. Not saying I didn't remember all of the things I needed to do- all of the bad things- they just didn't really bother me. Everything would be fine. I really shouldn't worry so much, Ali was right. This was all temporary stuff. Will any of this matter in five years? Probably not. I should just live.

"Good!" Ali shifted, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her jeans. I watched, her hands sluggishly unravelling her headphones; like a rhythm. She handed me one, smiling once she realized I was watching. Disorientated, I grab it, placing it in my ear.

 _I should really talk to all of the teachers and get some extra help._

 _Why am I avoiding Hanna? I didn't do anything wrong._

Bass line wavered through my head unexpectedly. I jumped at the sound, feeling it with tingles pass through my skull and out the other ear. It made my mind tingle with pins and needles. Shocked, I raise both hands, cupping my ears, trying to catch it.  
The other headphone suddenly dangled in front of my face. "Huh?" I can't coherently ask her what she's doing.

"Use both." She says simply. I feel a bit guilty taking it from her, but my curiosity makes me push past it. I place it in the other side- felt the instruments reverberate back and forth in my mind. I couldn't tell what the guy was rapping about, but the bass bounced at the back of my head, and the clap drum beats appeared left and right, and sounds I couldn't discern lived in the middle.  
I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of the sensations elevate me.  
When it was over, I pull the headphones from my ears in awe, "Oh my god! That was amazing!"

" _I know!_ " Ali replied, just as enthusiastically. "Wait until you try some chocolate."


	13. Trust Issues

**Wow! This chapter feels jam packed. I love writing Noel, he's such a charming guy. Some more Ali in here, as well. And guess what, we finally see Hanna, too! Sorry about the wait on this one. I started Uni at the start of the month, and well, the past few months have just been crazy as well. Please give me feedback if the chapter seems too condensed, too rushed, etc! I love to hear it!**

* * *

It took a the better part of an hour for me to admit to myself, the next morning, that I _did_ actually feel a bit better after yesterday's event with Ali. I still don't want to believe it was from smoking pot- it was probably moreso the _tabboo_ of smoking it and feeling better, that was making me feel better.

Nonetheless, I couldn't deny it. A small amount of stress seemed to have been removed from the conundrum of my brain. Or at least blissfully swept under the rug; I couldn't really tell.  
We'd made a few snacks, and watched some cartoons until Ali's parents showed up; by then, the fog had seeped from the ears and instead left my eyes burning and head heavy with sleep. When mom had picked me up at Ali's, she'd remarked that I still looked tired; and I told her I was, and, just to seem less suspicious, I told her about the crushing amount of homework I had to deal with. And then I regretted it.  
"Well, you know Emily, you can't always go flying off of the deep end. Sometimes you have to buck up and take life by the horns,"  
She'd droned on and on, but after the first two sentences I immediately found myself both too frustrated and exhausted to listen, so I ignored her. She didn't notice. When I got home, I couldn't think of anything; I didn't even bother changing- instead stripping down to nothing more than my underpants and then I was knocked out by a wave of comatose-like slumber.  
Which brings me full circle; well-rested, and slightly more keen to take on the day than I had been for the last little while.  
 _You're not making a habit out of it, Emily_. I scolded myself; _you're no chronic._  
Sighing; I take a long look at myself in the mirror. Tired, covered in makeup, messy hair.  
"You're talking to Hanna today," I tell my reflection, who doesn't look very pleased about it. "No more procrastinating. This disaster has gone on long enough."

* * *

Arriving at the school early, just to be extra sure I'd have everything for my classes and not have to waste any time chatting it up with the girls- in fact, part of me hoped I wouldn't have to run into them before class. Not for any reason, really; other than the fact that I wasn't feeling particularly chatty and I had a bit of focus and motivation to get my life in order; and I didn't want any distractions. This was a positive.  
Pulling the last of my books from my locker, stacked precariously in my arms, I used my elbow to close it while making sure nothing slid out of my hands.

"Whoa!" Someone laughed from behind me, "Fields!"

Turning on heel, I see Noel Kahn approaching with his signature amused smirk plastered on his face. He always seemed to be exceedingly entertained and chipper about _something_. "Let me help you out,"

"Oh," The shocked word word falls from my mouth, "You don't..."

His hands are already around the heap of books, lifting them with ease out of my arms. He didn't take half of the stack- he took _everything_ , except my one measly notebook. "Noel," I protest, reaching out to retrieve the books from him; suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed about being left with nothing but one thing to tote around. "It's okay, you don't have to carry my things,"

"Please," The boy replies, smile unwavering, "I insist. Where to?"

I knew he honestly didn't care about lugging my things around for me, but I still felt guilty seeing him carrying it all, as well as the Lacrosse bag he had strung over his left shoulder. I wanted to tell him again that he wasn't obligated to, but I held my tongue. It was no use. If a boy like Noel insists- then it's damn well done and over with.  
"Uh, Chemistry, first."

"Excellent," He chirps, and the two of us fall into step, "So, I haven't seen you around much lately- why's that?"

"I was sick," _Or something like that._

"Oh. Bummer."

"I guess."

A silence falls. Noel smiles and waves to some of his teammates- totally content just chaperoning me to class. The quiet was a bit more unsettling to me; with every step we took, the pressure to say something built in my chest.

 _But what do we talk about?_

 _Do I ask him about Lacrosse?_

Peeking at his bag, _yeah,_ _I should just ask him about Lacrosse._

"So how's the team doing this year?"

The dark-haired boy takes a moment to mull it over, before shrugging, a bit disheartedly, "Alright, I guess. I think we're fifth in the league right now. The Saints dominated us last game,"  
 _The Saints- what school is that? Hell... when was that game? Last week? I can't... I've never even watched one of the boys Lacrosse games. How terrible! Damn it, Emily- that whole team always watches the swim competitions! It's probably because all the girls are in skin tight bathing suits, but still... At least they're full of school spirit! God, you're a jerk._  
"Oh no," _I can't believe you've never bothered to go to a single game..._ "That sucks. When is your next game?"

"Friday," Noel replies without missing a beat, "And then again next Wednesday- if we can win both of those games then we'll move up to fourth and we'll qualify to compete state-wide."

 _There's your opportunity._ "Maybe I'll come watch Friday's game."

His expression lights up- "Yeah? You should! We need all the cheerleaders we can get," He gives me a light nudge, and I grant him a gracious smile in return.

We take a right down the hallway towards the biology classroom, and he shrugs again, scratching the back of his neck as he continues, "And, if you ask me, the younger boys on the team like having the _ladies_ in the audience... gives them a reason to try harder."

Rolling my eyes, I scoff lightly; remembering the time Aria's younger brother had tried to show off in front of Hanna. He ended up hitting himself in the head with the Lacrosse stick and blushing all the way back into Aria's house- cutting his practice short.  
Smirking at the memory, I laugh, "Yeah, I'm sure they really love the... _support._ "

At this, Noel chuckles lightly as well; just as aware of his younger teammates' fragile egos, "You could say that."  
Halting outside of the chemistry classroom, I awkwardly pull my bottom lip between my teeth; waiting for Noel to pass the books back off to me. Although, he's just kind of standing there, looking content, maybe lost in thought.  
Stiffly, I clear my throat, "Well, this is me."

"Of course," Noel replies quickly, almost appearing taken off guard. He fixes his demeanour easily, however; leaning against the closed door, basking in his own Kahn brand of confidence, "Hey, remember that favour you owe me?"  
The memory of sitting with him in that totally random cafe, where he totally randomly rocked out on his guitar popped into my mind. And the conversation that ensued.  
 _But why's he bringing that up now?_  
"Err, _yeah?_ "

" _Well,_ " The boy chirps, "I have a favour for you."

 _This is too weird..._  
I felt the exasperated feeling somewhere inside me- any teenage boy who asks for a favour while leaning against the wall with a little too much confidence... well, it's not usually bound to be a fun favour. More like an uncomfortable one.

"Let's hear it," I try not to let the nuisance carry through my voice.

"So my dad has this fancy dinner thing, right?" He explains, eyes glowing with excitement. I nod, politely following along. "With his club friends and his company- whatever. It's not until June- not any time very soon. And, well," Noel raises his eyebrows, "I was wondering if you would like to accompany me?"

"You..." I start slowly, furrowing my brow, "My favour for you is to go on a date with you?"

Noel shrugs simply, "Doesn't have to be a date."

I cock my head to the side- not entirely sure what he wanted from me. Maybe it was just so out on the left field that I'd never even considered such a thing that was causing me the confusion.  
The boy goes on, not allowing the awkward silence to take place, "We can go as friends, or as a date- really, it's up to you. I just want a beautiful girl to show off."  
He then gives me a playful nudge, and I roll my eyes; however, the flattery can't help but cause me to smile. Noel was a nice guy- I'm not sure if I'd ever want to go on a date with him, but he was at least genuine when it comes to these kinds of things.

"Noel Kahn," A voice chimes in from behind me- I immediately recognize it as Ali. I hadn't even notice her approach, and clearly Noel didn't either, by the way his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You're about as charming as an eel."

At this, Noel's giddy poise promptly changed into annoyance. His jaw clenched, and he begrudgingly extended the books towards me. Meakly, I reach out and take them; an apology on her behalf begging to jump off of my tongue.

"Anyway," He says shortly, "Think about it." And with that, he whisks away; I watched as his white and black plaid shirt disappear down the hallway, and when he was out of earshot, Ali cooed. " _Aw_ , look at him. Like a deflated testosterone balloon."

"Do you have to be so mean?" I counter, somewhat appalled at her behaviour towards the poor guy. Especially knowing that he secretly worshipped the ground she stood on. It would kill me- and I can't imagine it's too different for him.  
The blonde snorted, lips curling into a sneer, "Please, Em. It's Noel. He'll just go flirt with a girl he knows will tell him he's a _big hunk of man_ and then he'll feel better."

There was a grain of truth to it, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. "So," I argue, "It's still mean."

She shrugs, tossing a lock over her shoulder, "There's a reason you're the sweet one, Em."

 _Just because I'm not a giant asshole?_

I wish I could point out her flaws. But I lacked the basic spine to even stand up for myself, let alone make such a bold move towards someone else. So I held the insult back on my tongue.

 _Why are you so evil?_

 _Why do you need to feel like you're top of the heap?_

 _Do I even want to be around you?_

_Is it really good for me?_

 _Are you?_

 _What about Noel?_

 _What are you going to say?_

 _And, would it be right to apologize? Would that make things weird?_

Loud, like a swarm of bees around my head. The thoughts flew around so fast that I couldn't focus on a single one of them.  
Fingers demanding my attention snapped millimetres away from my face, pulling me out of the hive.

"Snap out of it!" Ali ordered in exasperation, "God, tell me you aren't _actually_ considering it,"

 _Okay, what's her damage?_

"So what if I am?" I challenge back, pulling the books closer to my chest. There was nothing wrong with Noel. He'd never been anything but kind to me.

"Please," Ali groaned, throwing her head back in emphasis, "Noel Kahn? He plays girls like a drum, Em. Why even start to fall for it?"

 _Guitar_ , I wanted to correct. Unless her angle was the whole " _drum pounding_ " part. "It doesn't have to be a date," I say in defense. "Plus, Noel Kahn isn't really my type."

"I don't think he would catch on to that." She replies dryly.

"No, he even-" The bell shrills above us, cutting me off mid-sentence. Ali rolls her eyes, dismissing the my response before she's heard it; and opens the door to the classroom for me. We're the first in there- other than Ms. Chen.  
" _Do what you want, Em_ ," The blonde sing-songs, striding towards our table, "But don't say I didn't warn you."

"Thanks." We're both ready for the conversation to be over. And I know she thinks she has Noel figured out- but she doesn't. Not saying that I do, either; she could be totally right, but I felt like I was willing to give him a chance. We had a lot in common, after all. Starting with her.

"So how do you feel?"

"Pardon?"

Ali scoffs, and this time rolls her eyes a bit more playfully, "You know- after our little endeavour yesterday? Less stressed?"

I _was_ , I think bitterly.

"Uhm," Organizing my books at the far end of the table, I shuffle them around to retrieve my notebook and appropriate textbook. Maybe heaving three loads of course material at once wasn't as clever as I thought. "Not exactly."

Alison just snorts, "You're hopeless."

 _And I wish she'd quit talking to me like I'm not really here._

"A bit."

* * *

It took an equal amount of energy to keep my spirits up; which consisted of trying not to respond to any of Ali's arrogant remarks with equally snappy ones, and pushing every minuscule worry to the back of my mind. I tried to focus on work. The equations. The gaping holes in my path to understanding just what the hell the assignment was. And, between classes, I purposefully continued to avoid Aria and Spencer; partly due to the guilt I felt, about the possible hypocrisy of my actions with Ali; but, mostly, I didn't want to run into Hanna before PE. That is where I would finally confront her. All of this ridiculousness had to come to an end- it needed to come to an end the moment it started. But, hey- it hadn't, and it had managed to manifest into a rather frustrating mess of cattiness.

I waited in line at the cafeteria; the smell of cheap, greasy pizza invading my nose, but still managing to make my stomach growl, despite how unappealing it looked. And for such a simple meal; the line was moving painstakingly slow. Tensely, I jingled my change in one pocket while observing my watch; not reading the time. I just wanted something to stare at while I waited, and a watch was about as inconspicuous as it got.  
"Hey," There was a tap on my shoulder. Turning on heel, I face Spencer, who is smiling, "You keep disappearing on me."

"Oh," _Busted_ , a small voice teases me. "Uh, yeah, I dunno." I shrug, "I've been around. Trying to catch up."

The girl's smile wavers a bit, as if she sensed my fall in composure- _shit_. She's too smart- she definitely knows something's up. But, she says nothing, just keeps smiling; almost a little bit too forced, "Oh, I can help you with your homework, Em. No problem."

 _Quit avoiding! You need to catch up, anyway. Calm down. And stop tapping your foot!_

As abruptly as I realized I was doing it, I freeze my foot against the floor; connecting it solidly with the linoleum. Grounding me.  
"Yeah!" I inch forward in the lineup, Spencer follows, "Yeah, that would be great, Spence!" I press a sheepish grin, "I've learned my lesson, no more lazy days. I'm drowning in paperwork."

The brunette snickered lightly, "I don't think I've ever heard you sound so studious."

"Is that a bad thing?" _Am I coming off rehearsed?_

"No," The girl gives me a light squeeze of the shoulder, "I'm proud,"

"Oh," I laugh eyes darting behind her, wishing for some kind of escape, "Where's Aria?"

"On a coffee run," Spencer's eyebrows shoot up to her forehead suddenly, and she begins fishing through her bag, while continuing, "Sorry, I didn't tell her to get you anything- but I had no idea-"'

"It's fine," Waving off the apology, I scooch forward in the line some more, "I'll survive."

"You could probably text her," Spencer goes on, still searching through her bag, "You might catch her in time,"

"No," I repeat, partially wishing Spencer would say she was going to go find a seat, and I could meet her there. Leaving me alone with my thoughts, "I'm good."

"Are you coming to practice tonight?" She finally removes herself from her bag, holding a folded piece of paper, "I grabbed this for you; it's our game schedule."

"Oh, thanks," Carefully, I pluck it from her outstretched hand; unfolding it and scanning. We would only have five games the whole season. The sport of baseball didn't really lift off in this school district, but at least we had a team. Not that I would be heartbroken if we didn't. "Our first game is in two weeks?" I complain, "We've only had like, what, _three_ practices, including the one tonight?"

Spencer simply shrugs in response. Sighing, I pocket the piece of paper, moving forward once more. Slowly, I was getting there; only three more people ahead of me. "I think I need to head home quickly before practice. I didn't grab my bat."

Spencer nods, "Yeah, why not? You've got an hour to kill, anyway."

"Yeah," I agree absently; this day is going by slower than this lineup, "I do,"

The game of twenty questions ends after that, Spencer resigning to her cellphone, fingers tapping away; probably texting Toby, or Aria. Mine remains painfully silent in my back pocket; I almost want to fiddle with it, but there was no point. I begin tapping my foot once more, scanning the heads of the people in the cafeteria- only for fleeting moments. My body felt on edge, desperate for movement. Legs becoming stiff under the numbing boredom of standing in a line, all for some disgusting, cheap pizza.  
By the time I got my piece- just plain cheese, that's all that was left- lunch hour had about fifteen more minutes. We met Aria at an empty table; she makes brief small talk with me, but as usual, she seems more sensitive about the fact that I didn't want to talk, and she dropped it. Instead, she engaged Spencer in a conversation about Ezra, carefully, yet politely, making a point to only include the other girl. I stared at the cheese pizza, listening to their voices but not their words- the sounds washed through my ears. Tentatively, I picked up the pizza and it drooped unappetizingly; leaving a orange grease stain on the white plastic plate. I grimaced; it wasn't worth the wait. Pained, I look up, not wanting to interrupt their conversation- _should I just throw this out? It looks horrible._  
With the pizza hanging mid-air, I search for the nearest garbage can, although I don't know for sure if I want to eat it or toss it. In between the sea of people, I spot the nearest garbage, stained and ill-cared for- but beyond it, something else catches my eye. The blonde I had been looking for, yet dreading to see. Hanna stood on the far side of the room, arms crossed over her body defensively, blue eyes throwing daggers at me. My own eyes are drawn to hers, and I wonder what she sees within them- fear, because of the death glare she was so kindly throwing my way?- a helplessness? A pained expression? Or did my eyes reflect nothing more than the exhaustion that sucked me dry from the inside out?  
And standing beside her; Mona. It made my skin crawl. She looked at me with so much contempt that someone would think I'd murdered her whole family in cold blood. I just wanted to know what was going on in her head; what had I done that was so much worse than any of the others had done- including Hanna? She'd forgiven Hanna, somehow. It was as though her vendetta was spared solely for me- and, well, maybe Ali.  
Mona shook her head, leaning into Hanna's ear and whispering something- in return, Hanna mimicked the girls action.  
It's confirmed. This is totally happening right now- _they're... they're plotting! They're scorning._  
The blonde turned her head my way one last time, giving me a pointed glare and disapproving shake of the head, before the two of them turned heel and swept through the crowd. Immediately, my pulse jumped, and I was on my feet, "Be right back," Is my formal adieu, while I'm already practically tripping over other people's chairs. To be less suspicious, despite the totally cagey getaway I was making- I grab the soggy pizza and plate and head towards the garbage can. My heart is pounding in my chest.

 _Damn it, Hanna!_

 _What the hell!_

 _Mona needs to get it._

 _What is she brainwashing Hanna about?_

Toes curling, I toss the pizza into the garbage- only feeling a small pang of regret after waiting in line so long. _Story of my life_ , I think bitterly, following the direction I saw Mona and Hanna exit.  
Weaving around the last few people, I push open the cafeteria doors to the east hallway, just in time to see the two of them rounding another corner.  
 _This is a bad idea_ , an apprehensive voice chimed in, while my body reluctantly started taking steps in the same direction.  
 _  
Head on, Emily. Like a car crash. This shit needs to stop._

Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I take a deep yoga breath, desperately trying to center myself. And then I storm on; each step more deliberate than the last.

"Hey!" I shout, rounding that very same corner, "Hanna!"  
At the opposite end of the hallway, the two girls freeze, looking over their shoulders at me, but still walking. Some stragglers stop and look at me as well.

 _If they walk away from me, I swear to God_.

"Mona," I try instead, anxiously bobbing up and down- _do I get closer to them?_ "I want to talk to you!

"I don't really want to talk to you, Em," Mona simpered instead, giving me a faux frown, "Sorry."

 _Bitch!_

"How about you, Hanna?" I ask, slightly more politely, "I think we need to talk."

In return, Hanna just shakes her head, stubbornly staring me down with that infamous Hanna look. I'd seen her use it on Caleb a hundred times among their many arguments. The look that said " _I can't even believe you right now. Look at yourself, look at what you're doing_." As if _I_ was the bad guy! Helplessly, the words to defend myself get caught in my throat; when I realize that bickering in front of everyone would just make me look worse- and, not that I could dig myself much deep of a hole- maybe public scrutiny was best to be avoided. But that wasn't stopping me, not right now; I just had to get my friend away from the _demon_ named Mona, whom was dragging her away again- and into private. Hell, maybe I could even get Spencer to join us and use her diplomat skills to help smooth this over. Something told me a _one on one_ had a slim chance of working.  
Stalking after the two of them once again, I weaved through curious onlookers of the confrontation; following their path out to the courtyard. _I'm tired of being the bad guy. I'm tired of everything weighing me down. Tired of feeling like the odd man out._

"Hanna!" I call, quickly approaching the two. They turn, once again, in similar, exhausted manner.

"Do I have to say it again?" Mona interjects, amused, emphasized disbelief contorting her tight face, "Not interested in talking with you- this is space free of boyfriend bandits."

"Not talking to you, Mona!" I snap- her voice grated on my eardrums the way nails did on a chalkboard. In my head and driving me _crazy_. "In fact I'd kind of like to have a private conversation with Hanna without her _bodyguard_ -"  
A powerful, stinging blow hits me in a flash, and I recoil in the opposite direction. In defence, I bring my hand up to cradle the now tender side of my face- mind reeling a blank.

 _Did Mona just... slap me?_

White rage fills my body for hardly a split second; before the girls face registers in my mind. Her mouth hangs open, very similar to my own, but it slowly closes in a smug smirk; laughter hardly being contained behind her cheeks. It was her reaction that allowed me to grasp the concept; _Hanna_ had slapped me. And hard, too.


	14. Teenage Angst and Other Complications

**Thank you everyone for the continued support! I'm so excited to keep writing, although, it's taxing to write Em this way! But I'm excited! Sorry about the long waits between chapters, busy, busy... I try to get them up as soon as I can, though! In other news, I finally sat down and mapped out this story, and it looks like it could be pushing 30+ chapters. I'm hoping 35 will be the maximum, but I really want this story to have a very organic and natural pacing. Not too rushed, it's essential to me (and, the story. Trust me guys.) Alright, and yes! We will be seeing and speaking to Hanna next chapter. As for those in the reviews commenting on Ali; right! We know Ali can be so much better than this. The Preface- you'll understand by the end... I will tell you guys this, there's a lot to look at between the Preface and Chapter 6 ;). Noel... he's going to stir things up a bit, I'll tell you that- and, bear with me guys, Emison is getting closer and closer! As always, let me know if you have any critiques!  
**

* * *

Hanna!" I hear my own voice crack- the shock of the turn of events muffling my senses. I was caught, somewhere between the ebbing fury I'd felt only a few moments ago, and the sadness I now felt welling inside. "I just want to talk to you..." Helpless, a dam of frustration, broke. My hand still presses to my cheek, which was starting to tingle. Hanna's response was simply the daggers her eyes threw my way.

How had this gotten so out of hand?

"I didn't..." The words melt from my body, pouring from my mouth. Was there by some tiny sliver of chance, some way that this was my fault? No, I don't know how Caleb got my clothes. But they were, after all, _my_ clothes. Was there something I was forgetting? But how would I ever forget some kind of event like that? How could I ever really do that? Anything like that?  
"I didn't do anything. I don't know what to tell you."  
My pathetic tail-between my legs apology caused some kind of emotion to crack behind the girl's blue eyes, hidden, buried. It could be sympathy. Pity. Either way, this was too public for her pride. The scene had been made. Admitting that she was wrong, or insisting that she was right would harm her carefully polished image that she had fought so hard to build. I didn't think about that. Not until I see her eyes soften, but quickly compose herself once again, after a few wary glances at the bystanders. Not until I see damn _Mona_ , staring at her, calculating her, waiting to see her waver. I understand then. Maybe it's not hopeless. But it is right now, in this moment, it is.

For a moment, we hold eye contact. I wonder if there's a way to communicate that I could talk to her later, we could straighten this out, pleading, _begging,_ really, for her forgiveness. But I just nod, turn heel, and get the hell out of there.

After all, that was really embarrassing.

Pulling hand away from cheek, I resist the urge to look back as I made my retreat, despite the way my heart hung heavy in my chest. A familiar, creeping exhaustion threatened to pull on my limbs, and I wanted to curl up. Hide. Regain my proper standing. Make like that hadn't just happened.  
 _Cold sting of rejection- that is, kind of, rejection._  
"Shut up," I mutter, letting my feet carry me in a direction without thinking.

"I haven't said anything yet."

My heart skips a beat- I whirl around to find Ali, only a few steps behind me. Pulse slowing, I find a mundane, peaceful comfort in the way her blonde locks fall over her shoulders, and the loving, but pitiful glow of her eyes. However, this relief is short-lived, and replaced with the shame of the incident- and how she must of saw it.  
"Stalking me?" I joke weakly, trying to smile.

She shrugs, "I saw the tail-end of your showdown, and then Hanna's right hook."

Immediately, my cheeks burn. Tears threaten to build at the corner of my eyes, and I cast my gaze upwards, past Ali, praying for them to not fall. It would be no use trying to explain myself, or the situation, or the fact that I didn't do anything. Again. It would just make me cry.  
"Yeah," I'm at a loss for words, "It's been a weird few weeks for me. I don't know what else to say." _I don't know anything._

The pale light from the overcast sky just made everything look softer. It could rain again later, but it was hard to say. The clouds were slightly grey, but only to the north. It could miss Rosewood.  
"Stop distracting yourself, Em," Ali sighs, somewhat exasperated. Startled at her eerie ability to read minds, I take one last deep breath before dragging my eyes off of the sky and back at her. Ali shakes her head, taking a few more steps towards me, "Come on, let's walk."

"Alright," Her kind, empathetic demeanour starts to throw me off. But, I'd lap it up like a stray animal, taking every scrap I could get my hands on.  
There's a silence- she is waiting for me to compose myself, say the first few words. But, I wasn't sure what to say. The extent of her knowledge was somewhat unknown to me- but, then it struck me; the comment, the one Aria had made before the party: comparing Ali to the shark and Hanna to the blood. Then, when Ali wanted to hurt me; she had wriggled in close to Hanna- taken her side, but just barely. I wanted to slap _myself_ for not realizing it sooner.

"So what do you know about this whole... situation? Did Hanna tell you anything about Caleb?"

For the briefest moment- the corner of her mouth twitches into a smirk. But then it is hidden, concrete non-chalant cover.  
"Well," She sighs, "I hear he ended up with some of your things."

"Yeah," _She's hiding something_ , "He did. I don't know how." _She's holding onto something,_ "I swear, Ali! I have no idea, but she won't believe me! What did she tell you?"  
Suddenly, my heart twists. I want to grab her arm, throw myself at her feet, because there must be some way she could help me. She can help anyone. Everyone would listen- she was my messiah, yet gnarled in a way, shadowed. She'd take something from me and I'd forever be in debt to her because there was nothing of equal value I could give in return. I have nothing she wanted from me. Yet I always needed her in some profound way- my saviour. But I was so useless to her. What had I done to deserve her, keep her around?  
 _Quit it. You're freaking out again_.

"Really, Em, she's overreacting. She didn't tell me much."

My heart explodes in despair- grasping, but finding nothing but empty air.  
"Has she talked to Caleb?"

"I don't think so."

Pulling my lip into my mouth, I begin gnawing it between my teeth- peeling the skin off. Maybe I ought to find Caleb again- the bastard. Timidly, I peek at Ali out of the corner of my eye- we're still walking. Off the path now, into the soggy grass. Do I ask her to clean up my mess?  
Squeezing my eyes shut, _don't do i-_

"Ali?"

 _You stupid-_

"Hmm?" The girl hums, thoughtfully, as though she wasn't entirely listening.

"Can I ask you something?"

 _Jesus Christ, Em, it's not always up to her to kiss your boo-boo's and then pick you up off of your feet. You don't need her. She doesn't even care._

"And what's that?" Ali asked, voice piquing in curiosity.

Watching our feet crush the grass under us, aimless, I decide whether or not I should actually ask her. Pro's, con's.  
But I can't do this.

"Can you talk to Hanna? Even just a little, I think she's coming around, but I need some help." _I'm not entirely inept, see!_  
 _You just got slapped in the face, Em, remember that._

Ali grinned, "You want me to talk to her?"'

"Well," I drawl sheepishly- maybe I should've kept my mouth shut. _Pathetic_. "Yeah. She'll listen to you."  
The moments that follow are long. Awkwardly, I feel inclined to look at my watch to count the silence as it goes, but I resist. Ali halts, as though only realizing now that we had all but been wandering. She still says nothing- the stress builds in my temples. "I mean, I've made my case, but she won't-"

"Yeah, Em. Sure," Her cheeks pull in a smile, her sincerity shining through, "You're right. Han's stubborn- but maybe I can get through to her. At least Mona sticks her head in the sand when I'm around."

Mona's name sends a shock of annoyance through my skull, "Yeah," I snort, "Her scaly lizard head. The bitch."

At this, Ali breaks into a surprised laughter, clutching onto my arm. "Yeah, you're right. God, I hate her."

"Me too," I agree quickly, glad I'm not the only one who thinks it.  
At that moment, the warning bell rings, signalling the end of the lunch hour. Slowly, we begin making our way back.  
"I'll talk some sense into Hanna," The blonde promises, giving my arm one last, reassuring squeeze.

* * *

By the time I'd started to make my way home, it had begun to rain. Just barely, but small drops from freezing cold water would occasionally drip down my neck, keeping me ever present in reality. I'd averted Ali, and Hanna, and Spencer, and Aria as much as I could for the continuation of the day. However, once Aria and Spencer got wind of what had happened, I had the exhausting task of explaining to them what had gone on. I'd left out my deal with Ali- for now. But I had told them it was okay, for now, too.

" _Okay?_ " Aria repeated, aghast, "Em, she slapped you in the face, did she not?"

"Yeah," Spencer conceded, crossing her arms over her chest, "This situation seems _pretty far_ from okay."

 _I need them to stay out of it!_

"Guys," I hold my hands up, pleading, "I'm getting it under control, trust me."

"You've been saying that since this started," Spencer rolled her eyes, "No offence, but you haven't seemed to have covered a lot of ground."

"Trust me," Firmly, I try not to let the panic fueled annoyance shine through, "I'm getting there. Slowly."

The two share an unconvinced glance.

"I'm serious," I take a step towards them, "If I need help, I'll ask. I swear. But I promise- I'm starting to make headway."

A worried crease forms between Aria's brow, and Spencer shrugs, shaking her head, "Whatever you say, Em."

"It's Hanna," I insist, although I know it's straight bullshit leaving my mouth, "We all know how she works things out. She's stubborn. She's getting there." My nails dig into my palms, "I'll see you at practice, Spence."

And then I flee. As usual.

I shiver as another drop hits the back of my neck- my flighty behaviour will get me confronted eventually, and I know it. With the way I've been acting, I'm surprised Spencer hasn't come forward already- I could hear it already, her sarcasm laced voice; _"So, Em, who did you kill and where is the body?"_  
Shaking my head at myself, "Stupid." I mutter, bringing my palm to my forehead and holding it there- trying to take the pressure out of my skull.

As I come to a halt by my house, I open the gate; checking the time as I did so; 3:16. I had about forty five minutes before I should head back to the school and start my warmup.  
Closing the gate behind me, I hear my front door swing open; " _Em_!" Pam hisses sharply. Startled, I look up- confusion coursing through my body at her tone of voice. What's she so mad about? Had she found out about Hanna? Had someone told the principal, and then they called? Ali? Is this what Ali meant? Would she? Was she still mad about anything?  
"Where's your coat?" She scolds, holding out her arm in a very ' _come here'_ kind of way.

"My..?" I look down at myself, replaying her words over in my head, trying to understand. "Oh. I guess I didn't bring one today."

"Come here," The woman now ordered, irritation rising in her voice when I suddenly stopped walking. Tensing, I shuffle forward, up the stairs and into the doorway. Pam tried to drape her arm over my shoulders, but I dart away quickly, not wanting to be touched. She may consider it a motherly gesture, but to me it was nothing but unnecessary weight.

"No wonder you're always sick," The woman berates, shutting the door behind her, "Not even bringing a jacket- it's hardly April! Honestly, do you use your head? What do you think the neighbours must be thinking? Like we're some sort of welfare cases that can't even afford a jacket?"  
Exasperation threatens to pull me to the floor- the small needle of a headache expands. "No," I agree with her, just to make her feel bad, "I don't use my head. But I doubt the neighbours care."

"Good God, Emily," She grumbles, following me on my heels as I approach the staircase. "You know, sometimes I really worry about you. Would you just find some common sense?"

"Sure," I lift one heavy foot onto the stairs, and then another, ascending. "I have baseball practice in an hour. I'll bring a coat then."

"You bet you will," She sneers, "Going out in April without a coat..."

I don't stop to argue with her, I just keep climbing, until I get to my bedroom, close the door behind me, remove my shoes, and take a seat on the edge of my bed.  
" _Bitch_ ," I mutter, running my hand down my face. "Freaking out over a jacket. Idiot."  
A long sigh escapes me; I put my hands over my eyes in attempt to shut out all of the light, and lay down. Through the cracks of my fingers seep in the distorted red light of the sun- or, lack of. A violent headache threatens to pulse around my head, like a extra tight head band.

 _In through the nose, out through the mouth._

 _In through the nose, out through the mouth._

My mind repeats this mantra without conscious thought, and I follow it. It's little monotone, therapeutic voice. Where do we learn these things, anyway?  
I follow in light meditation until the pain ebbs away- not entirely, but mostly. It lingers. Feeling slightly more worn down, I sit back up, rub my eyes awake. Raw. Red. In the mirror, I see myself; appearing more and more exhausted every time I look. Immediately, I check the right side of my face for any potential mark from Hanna; but it's clean.  
I strip- gathering more activity oriented clothing; a sports bra, spandex leggings, a grey tanktop and a windbreaker from my closet. And then I observe my body- almost completely naked. I had lost weight. The stress was beginning to affect my dietary habits, that was no surprise. Not only that; I appeared to have a very unhealthy tinge to my skin- blotchy, uneven. Dry patches. If I washed all the concealer off my face, I knew I could see bags so prominent they almost completely traced the shape of my socket. My cheeks appeared to have hollowed out somewhat. I sigh again, just looking at myself- weary and ill in presence. _How tiring. How drab._  
Turning away, I pull on the clothes, one thing at a time, and observe again; better. I complete the look by slipping on some running shoes, and a ball cap that was hanging behind my door- to serve the dual purpose of protecting me from the rain and shielding my downtrodden looking self. And, lastly, I collect my baseball bat and head downstairs for a snack before departure.

Pam is in the kitchen as well, cutting up a carrot.

"I spoke to your father on the phone today," She says conversationally- as if there was no tension between us. _The nerve_ , my conscience sniped. But at least that was some good news.

"Oh," I try with less enthusiasm to play along, "Good. How is he?"

"Oh, he's fine." She says, moving on to a new carrot. I open the fridge. "As far as he knows, he'll be here by next month."

"That's good." I fish around, looking for something to eat. Part of me feels guilty about my lack of eagerness; it was dad, whom I loved. But I cared less about his relationship with my mother. Everything from her felt so fake and pressed. As though she wasn't happy about his company- moreso about the fact that she wouldn't be alone, period.  
"I was thinking we could all take a trip somewhere- do something special."

"That would be nice." Grabbing an apple, I close the fridge and rub it on my shirt to clean it. "I'll be home after six."

* * *

By the time I reach the field, the rain had started coming down slightly harder. I had zipped the windbreaker all the way up under my chin, trying to cover as much of my skin as possible, but my hands were starting to freeze. I was early. In fact, I was the only one there, so far.  
Squinting, I pull my watch up close to my face; 4:02. To be fair, practice wasn't supposed to start until 4:30. And in this rain, people probably would be willing to cut their warmup short. If it was raining any harder, I kind of hoped it would be cancelled.  
Or maybe it _had_ been rescheduled, super short notice? Spencer would be on the ball, though, right? She always knows what's going on. And she would have told me, wouldn't she? Unless she assumed I would also know...

 _You know what they say about assuming, Em_ , my dad's voice chimes in my head, _it makes an ass out of 'U' and 'Me'._

Biting my lip, I pull my phone from my pocket, protecting it from the rain, I open it up and form a message to Spencer.

 _practice hasn't been cancelled has it?_

It sends. I wait, pacing, bumping the baseball bat against my heels. Looking out through the raindrops, trying to make out shapes or figures of anyone who may be headed to the field. The longer I watched, the more my heart started to race.  
Then there is a vibration, and I quickly snatch the phone back from the pocket, wiping a few splashes off of the screen-

 _What? No, I'm almost there now_

Comforted, I don't bother answering, just slide the phone back into my pocket, and take shelter under the leaves of a maple tree- which, wasn't much shelter considering it was only just starting to bloom again. And, with universally crude timing, I see a figure materialize in the distance. I wait, watching them come closer- it's not Spencer, but surely enough, not long after, she emerges from the rain as well. Groaning, I push myself from the tree and meet her halfway.

"The weather sucks," Spencer scowls instead of a greeting; she'd also gone the ballcap way. Although, hers was clearly Toby's, as it was brandished with the company name he worked for; _Gabion Building Company- Rock Hard and Long Lasting!_

No way someone put that on a hat without realizing.

"I know," I agree, twiddling with the bat in between my fingers, "I kind of hoped it would be postponed."

"Well," Spencer sighs, "At least it's letting up. A little."

"Yeah," Carefully, I let the wooden bat drop to the ground and begin stretching. I didn't want to run- not in this rain, in this grass. Sounds like a recipe for me falling on my ass. Spencer follows my lead, "So," She goes on, "Anyway, what's with this Hanna thing, huh? Come on, Em,"

 _Spencer, can I not catch a break?_

"Tell the truth. What are you going to do?"

 _Fuck it_ , "Ali is going to talk to her." I don't look her in the eye, I stare at the grass, letting the cap shield my facial features. I probably looked timid, borderline feral.

"Ali?" Spencer repeated, sounding aghast, "She's gonna be your pitbull?"

Fatigue causes all of my muscles to limp at the accusatory tone of her voice. "You know," Now I look at her, just barely, "Pitbulls have a really bad rep. It's all about who raises them."

Spencer's eyebrows raise, "Yeah, and have you met her parents?"

"Whatever," I mutter, stretching one arm behind my back, grabbing the wrist with my opposite hand, "I'm running out of choices. Hanna will listen to Ali."

"She shouldn't be solving you-"

"Yes," I whine, "Shouldn't be solving my problems, _I know_. But if my luck has only ended with me being slapped in the face, then sure, I'll bring my pitbull."

The girl's mouth twists into a frown. She must be holding back a Spencer lecture about me, _relying on Ali._ Which was true. But, at least she'd begun to understand I was getting tired of hearing it. Or maybe she just assumed it was hopeless. Honestly; it was a bit of both.  
"Besides," I continue, her waves of disapproval hitting me in the face like a tide, "She's not going to like, yell. She's just going to try to help me out."

The brunette sighs, dropping her arms to her sides. "Em," The word comes out firmly, "Are you okay?"

I blink. "Okay?" What makes her say that?

"Yeah," The girl continues, taking a small step towards me. Automatically, one of my own feet takes a step back. "We're worried about you, Em. Aria and I. You've been so... I don't know, different lately."

 _Was_ I okay?

 _No, no no no no no no,_ my mind immediately reeled, seeking sympathy.

 _Except I am fine. Everything will be fine once this mess calms down._

 _Nice mantra. Got any more?_

"I mean..." I start, somewhat taken aback, "Yeah, my life has been a little crazy lately. But, I'm okay."

She didn't seem satisfied, "If anything is really bothering you... You can talk to me."

"Oka-"

"You know, I should've never asked you to start trying to talk to Ali again. That was a stupid idea. She's not good for-"

"It's fine." My heart thumps in my ears.

"-you- _no,_ Em, it's not! That was selfish of me,"

"It's fine." I repeat, holding up a hand. Stop. Stop stop. I felt stress forming. "Ali and I are fine. I haven't even been talking to her that much."

 _Liar._

Spencer's shoulders slumped, "I don't want to bug you with this. But, just so you know... I'm here. And so is Aria."

"Spence," The name comes out a bit more sharply than I meant it to. Pausing, I take a slow breath through my nose, and crack a smile, "I'm so serious, I'm fine. Don't make a big deal out of this- it doesn't need to be."

She appeared disheartened. Meanwhile, my temples were starting to have an uncomfortable amount of pressure on them. Nails dug into palm. "In other news," I change the subject, trying to slow my heartrate, "I think Noel Kahn asked me out."

The brunette whirls around to look at me, one brow creasing downwards, while the other rises. "Noel asked you out?"

"Kind of," I shrug, and the girl outstretches her arms, _"Kind of_?" She scoffs, "What do you mean? You don't _know_?"  
Good. She's so taken aback by this she can drop everything else, "Well," I pinch the bridge of my nose, still feeling overwhelmed, "When I asked him to help clear things up with Ali, he said I owed him one-" At this, she rolls her eyes, "- so he came up to me, and he asked me to go to this weird dinner thing that his dad is doing."

"And that's the date?"

"He said it doesn't have to be a date- he just wants a pretty girl to show off," Without really meaning to, I feel a sheepish grin creep up on me.

"So, a date." Spencer finishes, with a firm nod, "Well... I wouldn't usually condone Noel Kahn."

"He's actually a really nice guy," Poor guy, he has such a bad rep, just like the pitbulls.

"I was going to say-" Spencer emphasizes, holding up a finger, "Since you owe him one, and there's free food, go for it. But," She takes a step closer, a smirk plastered on her face, "Do you like him, Em?"  
My ears begin to feel warm, "Well, I mean," I start, and this just causes Spencer to begin to giggle. Half heartedly, I give her a shove, "I don't know if I... you know, like him _like that_. But I do think he's a really nice person."

Laughing, the girl holds up her hands in a surrender, "Honestly, Em- do what you want. If you're crushing, go for it-" The warmth spreads to my cheeks, "But my only advice is don't fall too hard. His history with girl's isn't exactly promising."

"Yeah, yeah," I drop my head to the ground, trying to move past my childish embarrassment. I hadn't really given any thought to whether or not Noel would seriously be a prospective guy for me- but speaking about the situation, to someone like Spencer, whom would only assume that's what I meant... Well, maybe I did think of him as a crush. Just the tiniest bit. Or maybe I just like that he's someone new, and he treats me kind. And he did call me beautiful- and hey, that makes everyone feel mushy, no matter what.

"Ali would probably be pissed, though," Spencer adds, as if I didn't already know.

"She already gave me the speech," I wave her off, picking my bat up off of the ground- Mr. Gareths was just getting to the field. Together, we start to walk. "Oh?" Spencer chirps, "What happened?"

"She saw Noel ask me. She was kind of... well, rude to him."

The brunette snorts, "What else is new?"

"Yeah, she was a bit pissy, but she got over it."

"Well, I'm sure that's the _last_ thing she wants," My heart spikes- why would she assume that? "You and Noel, all buddy-buddy after that whole disaster a few weeks ago. Not to mention- well," The girl sighs, trails off. _Mention what? Not to mention what?_

"Huh?" I prod, trying to get the words out of her before we reach the coach and the conversation came to a premature end.

"Nothing," Spencer shrugs, "She'd just bitch."  
Gaping, I swallow my pride and let it be, although, I can feel my foot tapping against the earth. Yeah, that was going to bother me.

 _Wonder what you're missing out on?_


	15. Paseo De Las Estrellas

**Sorry about the wait on this one, guys! Two months, yikes. But, I've graduated in that time... not to mention my internet crashed for almost two weeks. Anyway, I think you guys will enjoy this chapter! Lots happens, hopefully it's not too rushed. Thank you for sticking with me! :)  
**

* * *

Long days. Tired body. It was starting to become a vexing trend. I found myself staring down at my watch again, not really paying attention, with a queasy feeling in my gut. I kind of wanted to puke, just for the sake of puking; as if it would purge my body of all the negativity and woe. Or if I could just puke until I didn't exist anymore- which would probably be the equivalent of dropping dead. Which, on some days, didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"-and it's called ' _Passive Ghosting_ '," Aria concluded, sticking the straw of her Capri Sun into her mouth. I had completely lost track of the conversation, but when I realized it was time to respond, I jolted back with the most thoughtful " _Huh,_ " I could muster.  
The girl purses her lips, leaning across the table slightly, "I just think that's what you should be on the lookout for, you know? It sucks."

"Totally," Agreeing, I also fumble around with my drink. I'd told her about the Noel thing, considering I'd told Spencer and Ali knew, too; it'd just be fair. And I was blocking them out of enough of my life, I ought to share some things. Unsurprisingly, she'd responded in a similar way to both Spencer and Ali. At least, I think she did, and I think that's what we were still talking about.

"Cause," Aria had borrowed her mom's car this morning, and during lunch we'd decided to head down to Murray's to get some junk food and she needed to pickup her cheque, which was fine with me. The more away time I could get from that school, the better. "I hate to see you get hurt- you've been getting the shit end of the stick so often lately. No offence."

"None taken," I sigh; mostly because she was right. At that same moment, the table rumbles with a vibration from my phone. Picking it up, I see the screen light up with Ali's name.

"Is that him?" Aria asks, taking another sip.

"No," I shake my head- feeling more butterflies in my stomach than if it had been Noel, "It's Ali."

"Well, well," The brunette chirps, amusement lacing her voice, "What does our friend want today?"

Eager, I open up the text and scan it.

 _Want to hangout after school? :)_

She's asking me?

To hangout- after school?

Had she really come around so fast? I expected a bit more persistence and coddling on my part for her to start actively inviting me out. But, clearly, something had worked. There was a warmth threatening in my cheeks- but I ducked down, not wanting Aria to see.

She wants to hangout with me.

 _Sure, I'll talk to my mom_

She wants to spend time with me.

"Well?" Aria prodded, "What's going on?"

"Oh," I bit too robotically, I gently place my phone back down onto the table, as though it was some kind of special artifact, "She's wondering where we went."  
It's painfully silent. She always has her phone on her. She's probably looking over the text right now.

Aria appears disinterested, completely oblivious to the monumental milestone I was having internally. She just nods, fixing the cuff of her chunky metallic bracelet- there was no one who could pull off the leather jacket, knee high socks, red skirt, combat boots, and heavy jewellery like Aria could. If I ever tried to leave the house in anything but a plain shirt and jeans I felt unshakably fake. Just thinking about such a flashy get-up made me want to hide.

"You ready to head back?" She throws a lock of hair over her shoulder, collecting the few things she had splayed out on the table. My phone vibrates.

"Yeah," I say, snatching up the phone, smiling. "I'm ready."

"Alright," Together, the two of us rise from our chairs. Simultaneously I'm unlocking my phone as fast as I can; a steady thump in my chest.

 _Cool, lets meet at the park at 3:30_

The park! She wants to go to the park, how cute, how... _random_? But, it's Ali- who knew what she had up her sleeve.

Sounds good

Aria holds the door open for me on the way out, "So anyway- did you and Noel just become close after that whole... Ali situation?"

"Kind of," I shrug, "I mean, we actually have a lot in common, and like I said, he's nice enough, I don't mind being around him."

"Stuff in common?" Aria beams, "That's great! Like what? Sports?"

 _Like being in love with Ali,_ "No," I drawl, second-guessing whether or not we actually did have anything else in common, "Well, maybe sports a little, yeah. But, I don't know...  
He's really into music."

"Sexy," The girl raises an eyebrow suggestively, "Did he like, _serenade_ you at all?"

I snort, "No,"

"Too bad, maybe once you get to know him he'll surprise you- like in those movies. You know, all the sudden he can like, play guitar," At this, I smirk, part of me wanted to reveal that he already did- but, telling didn't seem right. "or piano, or something. I think Edward played piano in Twilight,"

"I hope so," I amuse dreamily, opening up the passenger side of her mom's Volvo, "So, I should tell him yes, though, right? It's settled?"

"Uh," Aria scoffs, tossing her heavy purse into the backseat, _"Duh_! Go for it, Em. I'm all about chances."

* * *

I couldn't help but think about Aria's mantra if it were applied to the Ali situation, and the contrast between he reactions. She wouldn't be quite so happy. There would be the stern, lecture voice or the sympathetic voice used when talking to someone who was a bit delusional; it wouldn't be quite as upbeat, as friendly. But I guess that's alright. It wasn't any of her buisness, anyway. It was my buisness with Ali- and they didn't know the whole story, and so, their backlash wasn't entirely valid, instead it was biased by their own beliefs.  
 _Hypothetically,_ my mind corrected my inner tangent. Yet, I realized just as bitterly that this was only my conclusion because that's how their attitude was.  
Either way, one thing was proving positive; I'd tell Noel I'd go with him. I'd give him a chance. The first thing I did when I left Aria's car (after saying goodbye) was seek him out; and I found him outside of the gymnasium, just as the warning bell rang. The nerves picked at my insides so bad that I didn't even care about being late for class; all I did was take a deep breath to calm the waves in my gut and clutch one wrist with one hand, and then call out.

"Noel?" It came out a bit softer, because of my anxiety. He cocked his head up, looking to see who had called his name; and when his eyes found me he broke into a warm  
smile.

"Hey, Fields!" He returns in good nature, slinging his bag over his shoulder, "How's it going?"

Why I continue to be nervous about talking to him is beyond me; he's like, _the_ friendliest guy on Earth. Timidly returning the smile, I take a few steps toward him, and he towards me so that we're at a more comfortable talking distance. "Oh, good." I reply while approaching, mentally trying to get a grip on my sudden shyness.

"Good," He responds, eyes twinkling.

 _Just bring it up fast,_ I reason, make it less weird. _You already know he wants to go with you- so what's the problem?_

 _Remember how rude Ali was to him?_

What does that have to do with anything?

"So, listen," I start, feeling my nails start digging into skin, "I thought about it and I think I would like to go with you."

It's a bit rushed, I was trying to push the words from my mouth so that they were in the open. There was a lack of finesse about the delivery that makes my cheek warm; I sounded so weird.

Noel breaks into a beam, that really reaches his eyes, shows his teeth. "Really?"

He's thrilled.

Some tension releases from my shoulders, "Yeah," I say, meeting his eyes, only very briefly. "It sounds like fun,"

"It should be fun!" Enthusiasm leaked from his voice- I get the small feeling like I made his day. "There should be dancing, and music, and," He lowers his voice, "An open bar. Eric will be there to score us drinks- if you want to drink. And the hotel is really nice- let me walk you to class," Distractedly, he places a hand on my arm and we start walking, although I haven't told him what class I have. "You can get your own room, that's fine- there's a pool," It's like he's been creating this list of things in his head, "so you can, you know, swim. There's a tennis court, too,"  
My heart elevated; he was genuinely excited to be sharing this with me. And he wasn't even talking like he was trying to impress me- it was just like he was talking to a friend. Whether or not he wanted to hook up with me; which I was still a bit suspicious about, deep down, but there was also something about the way he was talking that told me he wasn't counting on it. At that same moment, the class bell rang; we would officially be late. I still couldn't find the energy to care that much.

"Oops," Noel laughed, "Well, yeah, anyway. It'll be fun. Where am I taking you?"

"My locker is fine," I grin; he doesn't know where that is, considering we're in different hallways, and so I lead, he follows. Always content to chaperone. Ali didn't know what she was missing out on.

 _For both of us._

"But..." I start slowly, and I see Noel's face drop in slight confusion, "I mean, my own room? That's a little expensive, I'd feel bad making your parents have to pay for that."

I knew they were filthy stinking rich, but still. It seemed rude.

The corner of Noel's lips lifted into a smug grin, "Trying to get in my bed, Miss Fields?"

Rolling my eyes, I give him a playful punch on the arm, "More like your couch."

He takes a thoughtful breath, eyes darting up to the ceiling, "Less comfortable."

Before I could stop myself, I feel the same mischievous smirk form on my lips as well. Noel was different, I could be witty with him and not worry about him taking it too  
seriously. "It's not always about comfort,"

Stealing a peek out of the corner of my eye, he looks almost bashful. There are a few moments of silence as we continue through the halls- clearly, he was surprised by my reactions.

"You're right," He finally says, his voice missing the usual confident firmness of his words, instead replaced by a more curious tone, "Whatever works,"

It's open ended. _Whatever works_ \- what do I say to that? I don't want to stop the conversation there, not when I was starting to feel more adventurous. We turn the corner to the hallway with my locker.

"Yeah," I agree, a bit slowly, "I'm not picky."

Stopping in front of my locker, Noel leans into one a few down; there is the unspoken, electric feel of tension between us. Pausing with one hand on my lock, I meet his eyes, and there's a new considerate look to them, and a small analytical smile. I was flirting with him; I knew it, and he knew it. Just because I _can_. Just because I _wanted_ to- I wanted to see how he would react. He almost had a look that read "what are you up to?"

"Thanks for the walk," I say politely, starting to turn my combination, "I'll see you around."

Noel nods, his smile expanding, "See you around, Fields."

As soon as he turns heel, and leaves my line of vision, I feel my pulse start to slow. Replaying the amorous portion of our conversation- I decide it's nothing more than friendly flirting. It's not like I had _meant_ it.  
Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I open up my locker, and my body shudders quickly, for no real reason. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Being outgoing and bold for once wasn't usually in my repertoire.

 _Oh, no; now you made this a_ thing.

I made it a thing?

 _Yeah, you're going to end up having to talk about it now. He'll think you're into him. Maybe he'll even think you're serious._

Shit.

A metallic taste hits my tongue; I halt, mid-thought. _Blood?_

Tentatively, I bring my hand to my lip; there's a sting as the salt from my skin makes contact with the wound. By the red smear that now streaks my index and middle finger, I must have peeled a good chunk of skin off without realizing.  
Dazed, I finish up at my locker, and keep going.

* * *

At three, Spencer offers me a ride home; she has her drivers test in a week and is trying to squeeze in as much practice time as she can. No need, with Spencer, she was always keen on everything; she'd pass, it wasn't even a question. However, I stuttered an excuse about walking, because confessing I was meeting Ali at the park still didn't seem right to admit; not that there was anything wrong about us spending time together. There was a "what if" factor that festered inside of me, growing anxious at the base of my gut.  
I could see that Spencer tried not to ask questions, but there was an unconvinced crease in her brow and a clutched look in her eyes. I guess my own eyes desperately dug into hers, begging her not to pry, not to interrogate. And she didn't. So she left, I waved goodbye, and then I left, too.  
The rain had moved on, past Rosewood; leaving today with sunny skies, and a rising temperature. Summer was on it's way- thank God. The entire way to the park, my mind was preoccupied with galloping nerves; what did this blonde haired angel have in store for me today? Not something I'd particularly enjoy, of course. But still, I revelled in the fact that she wanted me to join her in whatever it was today- I even saw her, just as the park was in sight; leaning on the shady side of the washrooms. She was fiddling with something in her hands.

"Hey," Once in earshot, I call out to her; giving her the tiniest wave. She looks up from whatever it was in her hand- and breaks into a grin.

"Hi, sunshine!" She purrs, detaching herself from the wall and prancing over to me. My stomach flips.

"What're you doing?" Trying to act casual, I wring my hands together in front of me, clenching and unclenching. The sun brought out the few freckles on her nose.

"Oh, you know," Ali scuffs a foot on the ground, almost coming off shy, "Just hanging out."

The warmth that her skin glowed with made me want to reach out and grab her, by the wrist. Just to feel her skin on mine, to awaken my senses- because the sun couldn't  
seem to permeate deep enough. But she was so lively.

"What's in your hand?" I inquire, using the excuse to gently touch her wrist, the one that was grasping the mystery item. I half expect her to pull away, but she doesn't, and some pressure escapes me.

Barefacedly, she unfurls her fingers to reveal a little purple lighter, "This?" She asks, I can't tell if she's feigning cluelessness or if I had genuinely caught her off guard.

"Oh," I say, dropping my hand, "I guess so. I just saw you fidgeting- what's it for?"

The blonde cocks her head, still smiling sincerely, "Why so many questions, Em?"

I wish I had the time to count her freckles. The sun brought out the beautiful, piercing look of her eyes, and she was staring right through me; the spots of gold, and green  
swam around in the palettes of blue. It was like looking up at the sun from underwater. I didn't know why I was asking so many questions.

I lift one shoulder in a weak shrug, "I dunno."

Ali shrugs, too, in a more carefree, undisturbed kind of way. She turns away and starts walking; I follow. "I always pack it with me," She explains, "I have a bit of... you know with me, too. Just in case."  
At this- I feel my heart jump in my chest with panic, "Ali," I hiss, "Why? You know how much trouble you'd be in if you got caught-?"

"Oh, Em," She sighs, slowing her pace slightly, "Are we living a life that's safe from harm? Of course not," My eyebrows knit together- what the hell is she on about? Is she high  
now? "The better question is, are we living a life that's worth the harm?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"What's the harm, Em? It's fine," Her nonchalance irks me- opening my mouth, an argument on the tip of my tongue- _don't do it, Em. Don't ruin this._

Hesitantly, I close it again, running through her question. It was a good one; although, I didn't quite agree with the circumstances it was used in. Just then, I feel the warmth spread through my hand, as she carefully, quietly, entwines her own with mine.

Good not to bicker.

She says nothing, and nor do I, and we keep going. Together, we make our way across the field; the grass was cut short and a brilliant green. Spring was really on it's way now. The sun was even a bit hot, too; I could feel the heat beginning to permeate on the back of my neck, and between the skin of our two hands. In a few more minutes, my palms would become clammy- I already felt an urge to wipe them against my pants, but, the contact was too precious to break.  
We descend a small slope under the shade of a few deciduous trees, and there, at the base, Ali's hand parts with mine, leaving me with a disheartened emptiness at the tip of my fingers. Pursing my lips, I wipe the hand against my jeans, hoping to wear off any trace of her, while I watch her take a relaxed seat in the grass. A bit more unsurely, I do, too. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it's uncharacteristic.

Yet, it was easy to bask in the beautiful day. There was a couple playing frisbee across the pond, laughing, in love. There was an older woman walking her cocker spaniel, who looked to be just about as old as she was. There was a man on the phone, smoking a cigarette, killing himself. And then there was us. Glancing back at Ali, whom was sitting with her knees tucked against her chest, arms holding her ankles, she appeared to be observing the scene just as much as I was. I wanted to reach out and hold her again.  
The blonde must have sensed my eyes on her, she turned her head and met my eyes, simple curiosity sparkling in those blue pools. A heat burned at the tip of my ears, and I felt a nervous smile tugging at my lips. Ali then yawned, stretched her arms over her head, and laid back, finally breaking the silence. "So, any word on the Noel sitch'?"

 _This is sure the hot news since I came clean about it,_ my mind complained. Demeanour dropping, I begin plucking the grass out of the earth absently, "Yeah, I told him I'd go."

"Risk taking," Ali mused, "Well, that's a start, Em. Maybe it's time you got out there and started to live a little."

"Yeah, I guess," I agree, mostly because it's easier than giving her more dirt to scoop up on.

Ali nods, looking away from me now; back out at the scene. "Are you nervous?" She inquires, although, she doesn't sound entirely interested anymore. Part of me is glad; she wasn't making a big deal out of it, and I needed that kind of mental rest.

"Kind of," After our strange flirt session, I'm even more so. "But, I think it will be alright. I'm supposed to stay at the hotel, but, I'm thinking maybe I'll just catch a cab home or something."

Ali is squinting off in the distance, the quickly dwindling intrigue she had must be long gone. I don't mind. Instead, I try to follow her gaze, which appears to be on the back of another blonde across the pond. _Who is that? Why is she looking?_ I feel my heart pick up in my chest, as I also tried to decipher who it was. And it registered, the same moment

Alison whispered, "Is that Hanna?"

"I think so," I concur, feeling my heart drop. Instantly, I wanted to flee.

Ali jumped to her feet, holding a hand out to me, palm facing me, "Hold on, Em," She said urgently, feet already moving away from me, "I'll be right back. Stay here, I'm going to talk to her,"

"Ali!" I plead, scrambling to get to my feet. She freezes momentarily, only a few steps away from me, and then hurries back my way.

"Don't," My mind is whirring. I wasn't ready to see Hanna; it wasn't what I had prepared for.

Faithfully, Alison places a hand on either one of my shoulders, gently applying the pressure to push me back down into the grass, "It's fine, Em," She says softly, catching my gaze and holding me there, still pushing, "You wanted me to talk to her anyway, right? Let me talk to her,"

"But-" I begin to protest, still searching her blue gaze for any sign of betrayal.

"Let me talk to her," She repeats, even softer now. I deflate under her touch, allowing her to guide my body back down to the ground, instantly tucking my knees to my chest protectively.

She nods, even though I haven't said anything, and whisks off again. She's walking a mile a minute.

Was this her plan from the start? Did she orchestrate this meetup? I know I shouldn't be so worried- considering that she was totally right; I did ask her to talk to Hanna, anyways. I put this situation in her hands- even though I knew she liked to break things, twist them, throw them against the wall. She was very rough with the things she was given. But somehow, I still trusted her with them.

The tightness in my chest only increased as I watched Ali saunter over and greet Hanna, who, yes, appeared to be alone. The chatted for a minute, maybe two, before I saw Ali step aside and gesture to me. Startled, I snapped my head away; didn't want to get caught staring. But from the corner of my eye, I peeked back at the two of them; as Hanna ducked her head, shaking it. From the sudden rigidity of Ali's composure, I could tell she was becoming more stern, colder; meaning Hanna wasnt cooperating.

 _My pitbull_ , the thought flitted into my mind, remembering Spencer's aghast accusation. Ali could be as cruel as she wanted to Hanna right now; twist her arm, so to say; and I wouldn't know what exactly was being said. How many knives she could be pulling, how deep they cut. I wouldn't know.

I didn't care to know.

I'm just as selfish as Ali, if not more. Maybe our only real difference was that I was a coward.  
Gripping my arm, I run my hands up and down the length of it, nails scratching against skin. Hanna was cracking, I could see it, even from this distance. Eventually, she shrugged, appearing annoyed, and the two slowly began making their way back to where I sat.

My heart jumped in my chest- _get your apologies ready, Em. You know what you want to say?_

 _No, I don't._

 _Better think fast._

Sucking in a sharp breath, I find myself trying to look anywhere but at the two approaching. If only it were more acceptable to literally run away from your problems. But that's not how anything gets solved; and, I knew better than anyone, that this needed to be done and over with. It was the mantra I'd repeated to myself ever since this ridiculous thing started; and now that I was being faced with a solution, I couldn't turn tail.

"H-Hanna," I find myself choking out as she neared, too frozen to move, "Hi,"

The blonde's only response was a long, hard silence. I swallowed past the lump in my throat- beyond her, I could see Ali almost throwing me a pleading look. _Don't fuck this up, Em_ , with that look, I could practically read her mind.

"Hi." Hanna finally responded, shuffling from one foot to the other.

 _Think fast, Em_ , my conscience repeated.

"So, listen," My heart pounded in my ears, "I know things got really twisted up- but listen, honestly, really; I did nothing with Caleb."

At this, Hanna's blue eyes darted up and away, the ghost of an expression of hurt flashed across her features. My pulse quickened.

"I don't want you to think that I would hurt you like that," It's pouring out quick- _save your skin, save your skin!_ was all that could looped in my mind, c _onvince her you're not guilty!_

 _But I'm not!_

 _Convince her,_ "I know he had my clothes- again, honestly, it's so mixed up; I don't know how." Hanna's jaw clenches, "I really don't. Truly. I don't. I know these are just words, but, I don't know how to make you see that nothing happened. I asked Caleb to talk to you,"  
Hanna's head snaps back at me, her cheeks pink, a hard glare forming between your eyes. A panic alarm went off in my skull, "But I guess he never did! I was hoping maybe he could tell you, help you see-"

"Why would you assume that he would change my mind?" She snaps, stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest.

"Because," The desperation rings through my voice now. I think I see Ali cringe, "I know you will take his word to heart, even if you don't want to. I just thought he could help-"

"Bad person to rely on," Bitterly, the girl throws a look past me, as though deciding whether or not she should leave.

"I can see that now," I mutter with just as much frustration lacing my voice. She was so hard-headed. "Obviously he never kept his word, never spoke with you."

"The funny thing is," Hanna took a small step forward, and all of my muscles stiffened. After all, I was still on the ground, and with her standing over me, I only now realized what a bad position this would be if she wanted to go out swinging again. "He tried to contact me. But, as usual, he made it all about himself, whining about this and that- so I didn't even bother answering him."

This drew out the beginnings of a long silence. I wasn't sure how to respond.

"Uh," I found myself croaking, "Well, I never did anything with him, Hanna. I don't know what else to tell you. I wouldn't do that to you, and- he's not really my type," Unintentionally, I glance back at Ali to gauge her reaction. She's being quite passive, her expression wasn't readable- she noticed me peek and I searched her face for any sign of support, anything to tell me how this was turning out. I got nothing.

"And what's that?" It wasn't a scoff, but there was an undeniable amount of hostility still in her tone, "Asshole jocks like Ben?"

" _No_ ," I say defensively, feeling a shame for ever being stupid enough to date Ben push on my shoulders, "That's not my type, either,"

My eyes flicker to Ali again. She's smirking.

Exhaling, I sigh, "Well, I don't know what else I can tell you. Other than you know me- I would never do that to you. _Ever_. So... That's it, I guess. Think on it,"

"That's it?" She repeats, exasperated. I nod. With this, Hanna turns to Ali, lifting her eyebrows, "Do I have permission to leave now? Thanks," Without waiting for a response, the blonde huffed and stalked away in the direction she came. I couldn't help but feel like I hadn't made much forward progress, as I watched her figure disappear.

Ali hummed once the other girl was gone, and took a heavy seat beside me. I just felt sullen now; I'd probably suck all the energy from anyone who I was around- it wouldn't surprise me if she was about to bid me goodbye, and good luck.

"That wasn't so bad," The girl remarked lightly, grinning at me. I can't believe she just said that.

"You think so?" I ask incredulously, raising a brow. Ali laughs, unexpectedly, she throws an arm over my shoulders, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Em, you know Hanna; she'll go home, think about this, and then refuse to apologize for a while, but say she forgives you. I think you did pretty okay, considering she wasn't  
giving you a whole lot to work with,"

"Really?" I can't help but feel myself swell with the praise. Ali nods slowly, but then brightens- the embodiment of a light bulb going off in her head.

"I'm going to text Aria," She announces, removing her arm from around me and pulling her phone from her bra, "What we need is a major girl's night. Hanna included,"

"Do you think that's a good idea so soon?"

"Well, we'll wait for the weekend, obviously," She rolls her eyes playfully, "By then this tension will have cooled down. Having us all together again should put the bandaid on nicely,"

Lately, having us all together wasn't exactly the most _peaceful_ thing- but I didn't argue. Maybe it would work. Maybe it would be just what we needed. Or not. It could be a disaster. There was no way to tell- and I couldn't control it either way. That was a very Pam Fields state of mind- control, worry, stress, paranoia. It wasn't what I wanted.  
Holding in a groan, I allow myself to lay backwards, head against the grass, squinting up at the sun filled sky. It's all good, Ali is probably right. When is she wrong?  
Ali mimicks my movement, resting her phone against her chest, and I feel her look over at me. Inquisitive, I look back, and she smiles. There is something so serene when she's like this.

"Do you remember," She starts slowly, "Between ninth and tenth grade, when Aria's family took us all to that little motel on the side of the highway?"

I did remember- so clearly. That weekend was one of the best in my life.

"Yeah," I reply warmly, "That was so nice of them. We should try to find that place again; go back this summer, before senior year and all,"

"That would be nice," She agree's.

Leave it to the Montgomery's to find a place like Lost Horse Motel and RV park. The motel only had six rooms; they had rented one for themselves and Mike, and another one for all of us girls. Spencer and Aria had squeezed into one bed, Hanna and Ali on the other (I got it with Ali the second night, however) and I on the blow-up mattress on the floor between the two beds. And right beside the motel there was a wonderful vintage style diner; it was colourful and served the best milkshakes I'd ever had to this very day. Not to mention, if you wandered through the back of the RV park, past the horse corral's, rabbit hutch, and rickity playground set, there was a path that lead to the back channel of a river- it was cold, but not so cold to keep you away from swimming at the start of August. Or to keep any of us away from trying the rope swing.  
The five of us had an amazing time. Of course, Ali was the first to try said rope swing, followed by Aria, and then me. After my head emerged above the water, I wiped my eyes, laughing, and joined the other girls, wading a safe distance away from the swing.

"Come on, Spence, Han!" Ali prompted, all beams, with hair slicked back and mascara flaking off under her eyes. The other girls were a bit more skeptical of the swing than we were. It was surprising that for once I wasn't one of those unsure people with their toes still in the sand.

"Yeah, it's fun!" Aria enthused, before sucking in a deep breath and diving under the surface again.

Frowning, Hanna peeked over the small ledge from where the swing was attached to the tree and the water, "How deep is it?"

"Not very deep," I assure, "You'll probably touch the bottom on your way down,"

"But not too shallow, right?" Spencer chimed in, giving the water an uncertain look.

Ali laughed, "No, not to shallow. Just don't go head first, you'll be fine."

Hanna and Spencer shared an unconvinced glance, just as Aria resurfaced a few feet away.

"I'll go if you go," Hanna finally murmured to Spencer, and the brunette sighed heavily in response, still casting an exceptionally nervous leer at the surface of the water.

Ali leaned in to me, "I can't believe they're so scared," She giggled, resting her chin on my shoulder, the two of us watching Spencer massaged her neck, and then, reluctantly, put two hands around the rope swing. She brought it backwards a few steps, before taking a running start and leaping off of the edge with it in hand, propelling outwards as she let go, and then splashing into the water. The three of us cheered, and when Spencer surfaced, she was grinning sheepishly.

"Okay, it wasn't _that_ bad," She admitted, swimming over to us.

With only a little bit more coaxing, we managed to get Hanna into the water as well, and everyone was all happiness and laughter, as we swam around until the sun went down, and we had to leave the water because the mosquitoes were eating us alive. Shivering, we wrapped the towels we'd left on the beach around ourselves and slipped into our flip-flops; bolting back up the pathway. A horse snorted as we passed; Aria snorted back. We'd then exchanged our swimsuits for pyjama shorts and various sleep shirts. Mine was a washed out blue Rosewood Sharks swim shirt, Spencer's was Club Lacrosse, Hanna's was emblazoned with a big Katy Perry World Tour announcement on it- we all grabbed our wallets and loose change and headed over to the diner for milkshakes. It didn't even matter if Aria had bunny slippers on.

"I heard Noel Kahn is dating that Prudence girl now," Ali gossiped, as we all sat snuggly in one of the round corner booths, milkshakes in tall metal cups before each of us. Ali and  
I were beside each other; in the middle, with Hanna on my left and Spencer and Aria on Ali's right. Strangely enough; Ali kept one hand on my bare knee the whole time. It was sending waves of euphoria through my body.

"Wasn't he dating Bridgette Wu?" Spencer inquired, lifting her purple straw to her mouth.

With her free hand, Ali waved her off, "That was so last month. You know Noel,"

"He just really can't keep one girl," Aria shakes her head, "Why does anyone agree to date him? It never works out,"

The blonde shrugged, "Well, he's super hot," She said earnestly, lifting her own green straw to her mouth and nibbling on it. Thoughtfully, I considered Noel; sure, he was good looking, but I personally didn't see what all the fuss was about.

"And oh, Hanna; I heard the _funniest_ thing about Sean Ackard," Ali said deliciously, "Well- about a few of the guys, really. I was talking to Justin Underhill- apparently, the guys like, compare themselves in the locker room,"

Everyone grimaced. Ali rolled her eyes, "I _know_ , right? I'll never understand guys, they complain about everything being gay and then they whip their dicks out around one another," This garners a few chuckles from around the table- it definitely rang true for Rosewood boys. "Anyway," Ali went on, "Apparently Noel Kahn has the biggest," She gave everyone a pointed look, as though that explained everything, "And then Justin, Ben, Brendon- but apparently his is crooked- and then," She pauses, giggling, "Sean has the smallest."

Hanna flushed violently; we all knew she had had a crush on the pastor's son since everyone's hormones started fluctuating. But she was always too shy to talk to him. There were a few, semi-amused snorts from everyone, but it wasn't a secret that Ali was the only one who found this to be in some way interesting or "hot gossip". I played it up for her liking, however, "Wow," I remarked, pressing to sound humoured, "Why am I not surprised?"

At this, Alison snickered, her grip tightening on my knee, "I had the same thought,"

And so we sat at the booths for another forty-some minutes, finishing up our shakes, and sharing any news we could think of. Unsurprisingly, Ali had the most dirt on others, and could verify the accuracy of the stories we shared. The whole time, I thought I was hallucinating; but Ali was leaning more into me, her body against mine, comfortably. When the time came to leave, I was disappointed, but left without a word. We watched some old movie that was playing on one of the seven channels the TV got in the motel room; it was my turn to sleep on the bed with Ali tonight, and Hanna swapped out to be on the floor. As the two of us sat on the bed, she complained abruptly, "I think I got sunburnt,"

"I know _I_ did," Aria sighed unhappily, "My shoulders and nose are killing me. I already got some Aloe from my parents, though; you could go ask for it,"

"Yeah?" Alison perked up, "Alright, I think I will. Em," She snatched my hand in hers, getting to her feet, "Come with," She demanded, pulling me along.

"Oh, okay," Is my only response, mumbled through a mouthful of strawberries.

"Be right back," Alison promised, grinning, not bothering to put on shoes. I didn't either- considering she was already half out the door, and then closing it behind me. It was  
pitch-black already, and the crickets were chirping outside; somewhere, a toad was croaking. Although Aria's parents were just a room over from us on our left, Ali began tugging me to the right, down the cement pathway of the mostly empty motel.

"Ali?" I furrow my brow, she was in a rush. Glancing over my shoulder towards the Montgomery room, I inquire, "Where are we going?"  
Without a word, Ali lead me around to the far, windowless side of the building. Anxiety clawed at my gut- was I somehow in trouble with her? In the dark, I could just hardly make out the glint in her eye that looked like she wanted to tell me something.

"Ali-" I try again, this time more nervous.

Quickly, a fist clutches at the fabric of my shirt, holding me in place- and she presses her lips to mine so softly- as if I wasn't already too stunned to move. It's over quickly, although, she still holds my shirt in her hand with white knuckles, and her chest heaves. I take her in for a moment; not processing. Her sleep shirt is grey, on the back I know it advertises her last name, and she's wearing her Tweety Bird pyjama shorts, still barefoot, makeup free, blonde hair dried in light waves from the water. She was always so beautiful. My eyes reach her own again; flustered, confused... curious. She has a similar expression; however, hers is more determined, more confident; I could tell she had just examined me as well. We hold each other's gaze for a moment; electricity cracking in the air between us. Her mouth parted slightly, both of our eyes dropped, only to return to that same gaze, this time, more challenging. I inhaled sharply, and that seemed to be a gunshot; she dove in again, pushing her lips against mine more roughly this time. Closing my eyes, I parted my lips to give her more access, which she immediately pounced on; pulling on my bottom lip. My head spun on an axis, sensation overdrive as my stomach dropped, her fist still clutching, pressing me closer to her. I realized my hands were hanging, and, unsurely, I raised them; I didn't know where I was allowed to touch her.  
She ran her tongue over my bottom lip and I sighed, frantically trying to keep up with her rhythm. Her hand finally released my shirt, just as I built up the courage to put my own on what I assumed to be a safe place; her waist. Hers roamed down my stomach, with the other coming up to cup the side of my face. I felt a heavy ache form between my legs as the proximity of her hand only got closer, and her tongue didn't stop dancing against mine. My fingers tightened.

Now, I wasn't quite the same girl Ali had kissed over a year before. Well- maybe the same girl- but I had more experience now. Our- my- first kiss had taken away my fear of it, and I was more keen on getting out there and exploring it more. At first I had hoped for a situation like this one; I wanted to keep kissing Ali, she had taken it so lightly, that maybe we would be able to do it more, and I could learn. Well, when two-three- months passed without ever speaking about it, I had to come to the conclusion that I had to start looking for a new partner. So, there was this one boy at a summer party; I was brave enough to play spin the bottle, so we had a little kiss. But that was nothing. There was a dry spell after that; until January came around, and Ben had asked me out. I didn't really like him. But I said yes- so there was some practice with him. But he was a bad kisser; there was slobber, and an amount of tongue that wasn't used with the finesse that Ali had.

And he most definitely never made me feel like Ali did.

With a deep breath, Ali pulled away, slowly, eyes still closed. I watched her lips, beginning to swell from the kiss.

"Wha-?"

Gently, Ali raised a finger and pressed them against my lips, silencing me. But my head was still reeling. There was a very dull sensation between my legs, which didn't help my confusion.  
"Spur of the moment," She explained softly, "I was wondering about it."

"Oh," I said, as if that had cleared everything up for me. It didn't.

"Let's go get that Aloe," Moving on, Ali whisked past me, it took me a second to get the gears turning in my head to walk. She didn't even take my hand this time.  
That was the second- and last- instance of Ali kissing me. I tried not to think about it. But being transported back to that place, I glance over at Ali now.

 _Do you think she's thinking about it?_

A small pang went through my chest; if she was, it was in fleeting. It held nothing to her. And I couldn't hold that against her; the two of us were only kids.  
She may have sensed me looking, because her eyes meet mine- and I quickly force a smile. She smiles back. "Do you want to do something fun?" She asks me, raising her eyebrows. I know she must be implying the same thing she was last time she asked me something along those lines.

There was a sad kind of nostalgia in my body. Things changed. Things always change.

"Yes."


	16. Sit, Stay, Behave

**This is a bit of a filler chapter. Setting things up. But just wait until the next Hollis party, guys! And, as for the novel, it is entirely made up, just in case anyone asks. Also, you'll see some development in the true nature of Emily's... relationship with her parents in the next few chapters. As always- let me know what you think!  
**

* * *

Bad influences.

I'd been familiarized with those two words strung together many times. Even thinking about them now brought me back to sixth grade, where we all sat down and watched an educational video with a woman's voice over telling us all about drugs and alcohol. This time, it was a cartoon. Menacing looking, the "bad guy" depictions of cocaine, weed, and LSD- all buffed out in leather jackets and sunglasses. This was the first introduction- couldn't get _too_ graphic for a room full of eleven year old's.  
We saw a new video when we were in grade eight. Girls with cracked lips and their skin picked open, stick thin and wailing as the police broke down her door- while their greasy boyfriend escaped through the bedroom window. A young man sharing his story on the street that his friends told him that doing heroin would give him the best high of his life.

Bad influences.

Ali wasn't a bad influence. We weren't snorting lines off of a bathroom sink. We weren't shooting up behind an alley. We weren't scoring some meth in the local crackhouse.

It was just weed. Home grown, right from the Dilaurentis household.

"Weak," Ali warned, with the smallest bit of a frown, "But it's enough to chill you out."

"I'm sure it's enough for me," I mumbled, eyeing the little bag of greenery, uncertainty washing through my gut as I remembered all of those health class videos. Maybe I should back out of this.

We'd wandered from the park to the trail behind the baseball fields- this was often the place closet smokers would go for a puff, or, apparently, where people went if they just wanted to take a few hits from a joint.

The blonde smirked, clearly keeping in some kind of light-hearted jab, and went to work quietly crushing up one of the buds between her fingers, and carefully placing it into the rolling paper- which she had gotten me to hold. Unsurely, I peek over both shoulders.

Aren't we a little out in the open here?

But there was no one in sight. Yet still, I kept vigil until Ali claimed she'd filled it enough; closing the bag of greenery, and rubbing the resin onto her sundress. Wordlessly, she held her hand out, asking for the unrolled piece of paper. Delicately, I placed it into her palm; watching as she brought one side to her tongue and wet it slightly, and then began to fold the paper up- until it made a lumpy, not-so-expertly rolled joint. Together, we stared at the finished product for a long moment; I'd seen a few in passing, but this one... was not very impressive. To be honest, though, it's not like I _cared_.

"I need a bit more practice," Ali explained, as though she could read my mind.

I shrugged, "Whatever works."

The other girl follows up my shrug with one of her own, before placing the butt end delicately between her lips and unveiling that little purple lighter, holding it under the far end of the joint and pulling until it was embers.

 _Wow, look at you, Em._

Picking at a loose string of my "Emily" bracelet, I do another perimetre check. It's almost too easy to imagine a cop car pulling up to the far parking lot.

 _Paranoid._

Alison's cough pulls me back to her- she's scowling, but offering the roll to me. Reluctantly, I take it. She returns to her small hacking fit, trying to muffle it with her arm.  
I observe it for a moment, before putting the same butt end in between my own lips- the paper was a bit moist from the prior drag that was taken from it.  
Cautiously, I hold it near the base for support, and- much like pulling off a bandaid- take a quick, small drag from it. The smoke hits my throat- the taste not throwing me off so much this time.

Part of me still can't believe I'm doing this. _Again_. And in _public_.

Hastily, I extend it towards Ali again, at the same time blowing out the limited stream of smoke- the back of my throat burning. She plucked it from my fingers, throwing herself into another pull. Stifling a cough, I watch her- by the effortless way she inhaled- the ember burning quick through the length of the joint, I was amazed by how much she was taking in at one time. But, when she tried giving it to me again, I shook my head. "No thanks. I'm good with one."  
I was already starting to feel warm and fuzzy.

A slow smile formed over her face, and she giggled, "Okay, Em. One's good."

"Yeah,"

"Yeah," She agrees, nodding, still holding the smoking, half finished joint in her far hand.

Yeah?

Lips pulling into a small, slow smile, I yawn, the heaviness of the feeling washing over me. It had been a long hour.

"I'll walk you home," Ali offered, flicking the burning ember off of the end of the roll, and then carelessly tossing the half-smoked joint into the dirt.

"Okay, thanks," _Will I still be high by the time I get home?_

The blonde extends her hand to me. Looking down at it, I slowly intertwine ours together, loosely, and then we go.

* * *

By the time we arrived back at my front yard, the high feeling had leaked from me, but there was the burning behind my eyes and _God_ I couldn't wait to get to bed. It was a bit more evident that Ali was still a bit blurry, however. Her eyes were still a little bloodshot, and she had a lazy, dopey smile on her face.

"You just gonna walk home now?" I ask her, we'd dropped hands a while ago, and so I lean against my fence. She nods, "Yeah,"

"Just by yourself?"

From my neighbourhood to hers, it was only a ten minute walk, but still.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, Em,"

"You can come in, for a while, if you want?"

Ali chuckles, bumps my hip with her own, "I'll make it, Em. Thanks."

"Okay," I feel my ears getting warm; I was being worrisome, "Thanks, Ali; for, you know... Hanna."

She gives me a knowing look; the kind with a little glint in her eye, a little smirk. It was not an unfamiliar look. "You're welcome, Em,"  
A bashful moment passed, in which I wasn't entirely sure where or why I was finding myself in such a situation.

 _Oh, it's the drugs, Em. You're still buzzed._

 _You think so?_

 _Pretty sure._

 _Huh._

Looking at the gravel, a small, nervous giggle escapes my lips before I could catch it, "Okay, thanks,"  
I couldn't muster the courage to look up at her, not until I felt the flush leave my skin. But I watch the way her feet shift in her cute little sneakers and- oh God, what am I getting into? Thinking her sneakers are cute?  
And yet I watch them as they sort of tap together quick and she snickers at that same moment and replies, "Yeah, sure, Em. I'll see you later,"

And it's just _too_ obvious to _not_ look up to say bye, and so, I smile, and wave, "See you,"

With a bounce in her step, she hops off; a gust of wind blowing the hair in front of my face and reminding me not to watch her go. Tucking a lock behind my ear, I open my gate, and make my way through the front door; removing my shoes over the chicken "Welcome to Our Roost!" mat.

"Em?" Pam's voice called, just as soon as she heard the lock click. Immediately, I exhale heavily through my nose, "Yeah?"

 _She wouldn't... know, would she?_

Hastily, I inspect my reflection in the hallway mirror; but, I looked fine now, other than having some tired, drooping eyelids. _What else is new?_

"Oh, just making sure it's you, honey."

 _BS._

"No," I reply a little bit dryly, "It's me, the neighbourhood burglar."

She was just using that as an excuse to say something else. That's how Pam worked- mindless small talk until she could passively aggressively bring up the real issue. It's like  
she sat on the damn couch just waiting until I got home; _waiting_ to catch me doing something I shouldn't be. It wouldn't even come as a shock if she had been spying on me through the blinds when she noticed I was in the driveway.

Somewhere, Pam clicked her tongue at the tone, before I could make out her footsteps and she came pittering around the corner of the kitchen. And she just looked at me for a long moment. Observed.

"What?" I ask, grabbing my shoes in my hand, ready to bring them to my room.

"Nothing," Pam says quickly, catching onto the sharpness in my voice, "You look tired."

"I am tired," Scooting past her, I tuck another stray lock behind my ears, "I have some homework."

"Oh," The older woman began following nearly on my heels, realizing she was being dismissed, "Okay, well, I was in your room today Emmy,"

A jolt zaps up my spine, I stop and look at her, "You were in my room?"

Being in my room meant one thing and one thing only. Snooping. But- there would be an excuse.

"Yes, it's disgusting in there, Emily," The woman says sternly, "You need to tidy,"

"When I have time, mom." I ascend a few steps. Pam continues, "Okay, well, I did a little bit of organization; I moved your sweaters from that top shelf in your closet" Oh my God, I can't believe I _actually_ wish I was still high. "and onto your book shelf. They just can't be up there, Emmy, there could be mice," I felt like my eyes were going to sink into the back of my skull.

Couldn't she just leave me alone for ten minutes?

Was it really so hard to not go in my room and move shit around?

"When has there ever been mice?" I interrupt, feeling the anger rise in my chest.

"Years ago, Em,"

"Exactly." Fingers curling tighter around the shoes.

"Well, that doesn't meant that they couldn't come back."

Shutting my eyes, I take in a deep breath. Praying to every God above to give me the strength not to lose my mind.

"Could you just," I say evenly, "not go in my room and move stuff around?"

Pam scoffed, "Well, they can't be up there, Emily."

"It's _my_ room," Sharply, I ascend farther up the stairs, "If you don't like it don't go in there."

Without waiting for a response, I continue upwards from the last few steps, enter my room, close the door, and drop my shoes. Resting my forehead against the wood, I run a hand down my face;

 _I'm not going to let her ruin my mood._

Exhaling, I pull away, locate the sweaters, and return them to their spot. Groaning, I drop backwards on my bed, and allow myself to close my eyes. There were bigger problems here.  
And those were; why the hell was Ali making me squirm? And not in the usual, _she's about to spill my dirt_ way. In the dreadfully delicious return to ninth grade way. In the _cute_ way. In the way that made me blush, and that was definitely not something I wanted to hop on board of again.

 _Come on, Em. You're so over this all. It's so ninth grade._

Massaging my temples, I reach for my phone; there was one text from Aria that I must've missed on my adventure with Ali.

 _ali wants to have a girls night?_

The first ripple of uncertainty.

 _yeah_

It's the only word I had the energy to reply with. Aria was intuitive; she probably knew that things weren't for the best with the five of us- because, I hate to admit it- we were in a rocky patch. Hanna and I. Ali and Spence. Getting everyone together, with it being Ali's idea, did seem like it could be some kind of scheme in a time like this.

 _han and I talked a bit today. hopefully the train is rolling in a better direction_

I stared at that blue-white screen until she answered.

 _oh good! thats a start_

 _yeah. ali figured that this would be a good time to stitch things up_

 _i guess as good as ever_

 _what do you think?_

The phone buzzes in my hands, but it wasn't Aria. I check my messages to find one from Ali. My heart skips as I open it.

 _Lol made it home in one piece, Em._

Fingers hovering over the keypad, I grasp for an appropriate response. My phone buzzes again, from Aria this time. Temporarily closing Ali's message, I read Aria's reply.

 _i don't know em, at this point i just go with it. im Switzerland_

I wonder how nice that would feel.

* * *

It was hard to try to think that everything was starting to settle down. It was hard to tell if it was really happening or not; it just felt a little _too_ easy. School the next day only proved to me what an odd situation this was, indeed.

"New book assignment," Mr. Fitz said, hardly able to contain the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. He seemed to be giving up on the class, by the way he had been moping around.

"What's up with Fitz?" I heard Spencer whisper to Aria, while I checked the time on my watch. The little hands couldn't move fast enough.

"Not sure," Aria replied, "I think he's having a lack of creativity."

Spencer hummed, bored with the conversation already. I knew that Aria surely wouldn't be; her mind could seem to take _endless_ amounts of Ezra. She could go on and on about him, and his books, and his jumbled apartment, and the way he had a tendency to triple check the locks on his door at night ever since his family got robbed when he was a kid. And, yeah- I completely didn't need to know, nor did I care, that much about Ezra- but Aria did, for some reason. And so I never stopped her when she went off about him. Therefore, I knew a little more than I wondered if he would be comfortable with.  
Maybe half of the reason I allowed myself to feign interest in it was because Aria had the decency to do the same when I could take in _endless_ amounts of Ali.

"' _Do Not Open_ '," He carefully lifted the books off of the library trolley, stacking them a few books high and then handing them to the person in the front row. "Some of you may not like this novel, but, there's a reason I want to look at it today,"

"I've never even heard of it," Spencer mumbled, and I could hear Aria intake a breath, whispering back, "He's really been searching deep into the internet for some new content. He heard about it through some university fiction studies class,"

"University?" I raise my eyebrows, trying not to be obvious in turning around to join the conversation, "Will everyone in this class... be able to follow along?" Casting a side-eye at Bridgette Wu, who was pulling a string of gum from her mouth, appearing entirely in a different mental space.

Aria shrugged, "Dunno. Like I said; he's in a rut,"

Ezra's voice chimed in again, as he stepped away from the chalkboad; revealing the word written in bold white letters: CHOICE.

"This book," He said slowly, wiping his hands together to rid the chalk. The book stack came to me, and I took a copy, before passing it onwards, "Is all about the choices we make when faced with a terrible situation. It's about discovering what makes a person who they are, and what could influence the choices we make,"

He sighed, lifting his own copy from his desk, "It's a great piece of fiction, but, I'll let you know that there is some... disturbing," He said the word slowly, unsurely, as if he was second-guessing himself, "content in here. If by any chance you're reading and feel uncomfortable with what you're coming across, don't hesitate to ask me for a new novel."

Examining the cover- which was, hardly, a cover. In fact, it was only a solid black, just ghosting the pattern of wood, as if it was meant to reflect a dark hardwood floor. There wasn't even a title. Turning it around in my hands, I inspect the back; same thing.

 _Disturbing content?_ What was _that_ supposed to mean? Aren't we supposed to get a parent to sign something if what we're going to be engaging in is... well, _disturbing?_  
Throwing Spencer an ambivalent look, she appears just as unsure, shrugging, and turning over the book in a very similar way that I had.

"I want you guys to ask questions," He went on, "I want you guys to really think about it as you're reading,"

Opening up the cover, I flip past the first few blank pages before I find reviews from a few random critics, websites, and journals. I skim them, but don't bother reading; instead, I keep flipping until I find where something finally began,

"Mr. Fitz?" I hear someone call out questioningly.

"Yes?"

"What's this about?"

Looking up, I run a hand through my hair and close the book again, noticing the way my feet were tapping against the ground. I stop myself.

"That, you'll have to find out on your own,"

* * *

"I think it's nice that he's taking risks," Aria praised as we left the classroom, holding her book under her arm. I did the same, while Spencer still seemed perplexed; she had shoved it in her bag and remarked that she would probably rip through it in about one night, maybe two.

"Has he told you anything about it?" She asked, tucking a lock of stray hair behind her ear.

The shorter girl's lipped curled uncertainly, and she shrugged again, "Not really. He just mentioned that he'd found a really interesting novel that he was thinking about getting us to study."

"Well," I add, skirting around some kid holding a skateboard, "It's definitely interesting looking,"

Spencer nodded, "Yeah. Kind of creepy, though,"

I agree with that, too, "Yeah. Very _mysterious,_ "

Aria laughs, holding the black book out in front of her again, "I trust his judgement."

"Hey girls!" A voice rings through the hallway, and we all pause, turning on heel. _Ali._

We all returned various greetings as she skipped her way up to us, holding a plastic container in her hands outwards, like an offering. "Cinnamon cookies?" She asked sweetly, lifting the lid, "Me and Han made them in Foods class."

The smell made my stomach grumble, and, gratiously, I took one, "Thanks,"

She gave me a measured, twinkling look in return, "You're welcome, Em,"

"Where is Hanna?" Spencer asked, also picking up a cookie. I nibbled on mine, but suddenly, I couldn't find myself able to focus on eating it; instead I was inspecting the way Ali's curls rested over her shoulders.

 _You're staring._

 _Oh. Right._

Quickly, I casted a look downwards, and all but shoved the food into my mouth.

"She went off with Mona," Ali's voice hardened a bit as she said it- the name made me roll my eyes.

" _Great_ ," Muttering, I reach for a second helping of cinnamon cookies. Who knew Ali was such a good baker?

"They are, aren't they?" The girl teased playfully, "There's more where that came from,"

Cracking a smile, "No, well- yeah, they're good. But I was just making a comment about Mona,"

Ali straightened up slightly, using her free hand to move said curls over her shoulder, and scoffed, "Please, let's not give _Menace Mona_ the time of day. Anyways," She now turned to the other two, "Are we on for girls night this Friday?"

Friday?

"Well," I start with a croak, while Spencer nodded and Aria remarked with a tiny, _'Sure_!', "I work until eight. But-"

"Oh," Ali cuts me off, waving a hand in dismissal, "That's nothing. You can still make it after,"

"Yeah," Giving her a small grin, I bite into the other cookie, just as the warning bell rings.

"Crap," Spencer heaves her bag higher onto her shoulder, "I can't be late for physics. I'll see you guys later- we'll talk about it,"

"Alright," Ali appears unfazed, instead, turning her blue eyes onto Aria, "We could do it at your house, though, right?"

Aria's mouth dropped open slightly; clearly, this hadn't been discussed with her yet. It was just Ali making plans-

 _What else is new._

"Maybe," She replied, "I'll just have to check with Byron and Ella,"

"Perfect," Ali remarked, closing the lid on the remaining cookies. Friday- at Aria's, _maybe_. With Ali- the whole girls night thing didn't ring to be a great idea to me, it almost seemed like a recipe for disaster. Would Hanna come? Even without Hanna, would there be smooth sailing? This wouldn't turn out like the last Spencer and Ali fight, would it-?

"Em," Ali said sharply, causing me to jump out of my thoughts, "Walk with me, yeah?"

Casting a helpless look at Aria, since Ali was already turning away, I shrug and hurry to keep pace with her. A crease formed between the shorter girls brow as I left, but she said nothing.

When I had awkwardly fallen into step with the blonde, I clasped my hands together in front of me, and waited for her to say what she wanted to; assuming that that's why she had called me to her.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," _There we go._

Talk to me about something?

Like what?

Had she noticed me staring?

Oh, God- had she noticed how I've been lately, period?

"What?" I say, struggling to keep my voice level.  
The class bell rang, and she stopped abruptly, almost causing me to run into her. She let out a small breath, her lips slowly forming into the smallest, most devious of grins.

 _Oh, she's_ so _on to you._

"What?" I ask again, the worry rising in my voice.

Ali leaned back against the row of lockers outside of the History classroom, and fiddled with the clasp on the container absently, "Well, there's this thing,"

A thing?

She wants to talk to me about... a _thing_. Okay.

"it's another, you know, well it's another party- at Hollis, and I was wondering if you wanted to go?"

She was... _inviting_ me somewhere?

"I know it's not really your thing," She continued quickly, "But I really think you should go."

She's... _inviting_ me somewhere. She. Personally. _To me_.

"Another Hollis party?" I repeat slowly. She was certainly right; it wasn't my thing, especially not after last time. But she still wanted me to go?

"Yeah," Her voice sparked some hopefulness, "But... don't tell the other girls,"

At this, I raised an eyebrow. It was all so... fishy. Honestly, straight out of the sea, too good to be true, fishy.

"I just think it should be me and you this time. It'd be less... messy,"

I wondered if the shock is as evident in my face as I think it is.

Me and her only, at a party.

Alison was notorious for ditching us all at parties- but she'd never once only chosen a single one of her esteemed friends of the group to chaperone her somewhere. She usually went with her whole entourage; even if it meant fucking off the first chance she got and leaving the four of us in each other's company. It could be a disaster. But still...

"When is it?" I ask, maybe even slower, still processing the idea.

"Saturday." She bites her lip nervously, and right then and there, I can feel myself caving.

 _But think about how much this stinks like a bad idea._

"Why don't you want the other girls there?"

She shrugs, looking downwards for a brief moment, "I don't know, I haven't really been... Close with them lately, you know? But, you and I have been hanging out and I've been enjoying it,"

 _Okay, what angle is she playing at?_

No, what _happened_ to her?

 _Talk about a character shift._

 _She must be playing a game._

"Uhh," Groaning seems to be the only use of speech my brain could currently function. There were too many conflicting thoughts battling it out in my mind.

"So what do you say?" She inquires, cheeks pulling upwards in a pleading smile. Where her eyebrows went up and her eyes seemed to get bigger and-

Oh, I _know_ this.

This is the _puppy-dog_ look.

Since when did Ali use the puppy dog look?

And since when did she _use it on me?_

 _To get what she wants, duh. That's why she does anything. Queen of hearts._

And it's _totally_ working.

"I'll think about it,"


	17. Author's Note

**Hey guys. So, I'd like to officially announce that I think this story has been abandoned, and I'm sorry. Not saying that I'll _never_ pick up this story again, but there _is_ a high probability that I won't. I haven't even watched Pretty Little Liars since about the start of the sixth season, and I've just lost the motivation to keep with those characters in this story.  
** **Thank you, however, to those who supported this story, left reviews and followed this tale. I do hope that I eventually find it in me to start up with this story again, but, honestly, I just don't feel connected to the story or characters anymore.  
** **So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. And I'm sorry. If you're dying to know what was meant to happen, feel free to PM me and I'm more than happy to share with you what my plans were. Or if you have any questions.  
** **Much love and gratitude.  
** **3**


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